summer makes writing a sin.
outside, alone with your senses, everything is fresh and the pleasure peaks.
you sit with a clean view of the open sky (between concrete mountains and wiry steeple tops) and the breeze fills your lungs with the colors of the mandevillas.
park sounds massage your brain and dopamine soaks down through its pink levels, saturating the stem that runs down from your mind’s core to meet the mass that sits on the top of your spine.
all of your nerves pulse together like the strings on the neck of a bass guitar,
or like the fibers of your heart when it thinks about love.

Published by obsidianfoto

photography and visuals. color, texture, gradients. IG @obsidianfoto

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