let it break through

well, you know, i'm walking through the courtyard, kicking at some stones-hoping the higher of the kicks will motivate some warmth to kiss the tip of my hollowfingersgodtheyaresocold. captivated by the chaotic mosiac the trees have blown me. these yellows, these reds, these brown scabs smelling like leather, peeled like dead skin and gently blown away. they're just skin...

gotta get on that kissing bridge and snap some photos. when i do, i'll show you some, if you'd like.