they all have something in common

hotel rooms. the pristine quiet, just moments after you've swiped your key card and flipped the switch. the soft hum of the ac and the crispness of the linen. nothing has felt so alien and so completely mine at the same time.

corn fields. sky dipping into a yellow horizon. the smells of summer all rolled into this one; possibly the simplest and truest sense of freedom there is.

an old pair of chuck taylors, shaped perfectly after a single pair of feet. laces gray with dust, spilled beer, heartbreak and punk rock. been around for all the best stories you can and can't remember.

a slow pub on a lazy mid-afternoon in a new city, and being aware of all the eyes pretending not to notice you at the end of the bar with your pretentious fucking book and your foaming beverage.

expensive jeans. a dark denim that looks like it would bleed volumes in the wash. understated creases in all the right places.

midsummer rainstorms. heat rising off the pavement. getting soaked to the core and seeking cover in doorways while the sky is torn in half by lightning. blue and purple flashes. can feel wet mascara pool under my eyes. the weather is like a violent kiss.

cobblestone. ivy. red brick. white sheets on clotheslines. sun-lit chimneys punctuating a landscape of rooftops.

watching 'the seventh seal' in bed with a bottle of scotch. finishing it, and deciding to watch 'the trial' while the bottle lasts. finishing that too. the light fades out there and the shadows crawling in from the window get longer, but it doesn't matter, you've nothing important to do today.

a crackling fire pit. a thousand sparks chasing each other. silence, and absolute calm.

the first time you hear a song that flips your gut.

beautiful lips stained with good red wine. a few errant drops on some of the playing cards.

hands doing things.

eyes thinking about things.

the way one would hold a kitten.

gasoline. everywhere that's far from home. everywhere that's big and filthy and populated with fashion-conscious strangers. everywhere i'm a stranger to.

tousled hair, matted with salt water and sweat.

a desert, with red sand and a red moon, and a highway that stretches out into infinity.