Sunday, January 25, 2015

like a memory

We sat next to the kitchen garden, on the brick paving that held the warmth from the day (like a memory). Tiny bats skimmed close over us (like a memory), we peered up at them in the indigo dark, and everything (like a memory) was settling in deep. From the hills we heard steady techno beats (like a memory), distant enough that it did us no harm (like a memory), it could have been the pulsing of the stars. 

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