Fresh are the berries that we use to pick, from our daydream valleys. Filled with pauses and short breaths, when we roll in the dusty paths. photo / Piero Donadeo writing / Kendall Hill
I don’t want to be your favorite. photo / The Gentleman Amateur writing / Kendall Hill
Let me film a video of you, color it cherry blue
Things are even But don’t even out
It is delicious to be anonymous on a foreign city street.
Arriving from always, you’ll go away everywhere
blueness, delirium And slow rhythms under the streaking of daylight
Rare bird, extinct color, you stay in my dreams in x-ray
let us never be rescued from this mess.
Not the moan but the angle of a moan