. you speak and I get closer and suddenly my air is your air and we are no longer one and another . . writing / ⁃ @loser.zine photo / Tamara Lichtenstein
I just want to dance on the beach again, Under the pink skies we call home. photo / Juan Ricardo Huerta writing / Kendall Hill
How will I know if It is midnight or If I’m dead ? photo / Wang.Wei writing / Kendall Hill
a tiger sleeping under my skin, a tiger sleeping under your skin
Letting go’s not giving in
the room is on fire and she’s fixing her hair
You can be in my dreams if I can be in yours
smelling the flowers pressed against her neck
It could be you.
the pale warm light welcomed me back.