the drive

Iridescent strips of asphalt mimic the sky, or at least attempt to. Their mottled glimmers glisten in the newfound sun. As the foreboding clouds traverse on, they leave every surface moist and clean. The warmth softly dries wherever it brushes.

Stream of Consciousness Imagery 1-

It is dark. The Romeo and Juliet theme drones from the corner. The pressure is up high on the shower head. It is warm, the water, and it tingles- the air is very cold. The air conditioner is also up too high. Actually, so is the volume. Hello, Bon Iver. No, you can't make me love you if I don't. The soft but used towel feels safe against the draft. The vent is stuck open, otherwise it would be have been permanently shut months ago. Yes, Frank, night and day. Air conditioning is an unfortunate necessity. The bed is wet from dripping drops dripping all over the blanket. The sheets need to actually be put on the bed. This blanket needs to be washed. Everything in this room is a reminder of the past, even though most of it is new. It's a reminder of what used to be in that corner, on that table, out that window. In that alley. In this town. Nothing feels safe here. It's not even that there is cause for insecurity. It is that so much has happened here that makes a person vulnerable. How can anyone feel anything but insecure in a place of memory? Sounds follow everywhere, but they can be turned off. Smells can be left behind. Tastes avoided. But sights are still there when eyes are closed and places are inevitably returned to in memory. Memories can never be completely forgotten. Love never leaves and it stands the test of time even when it isn't desired.

-Wednesday, June 19, 2013
1010 South St.