Last weekend he smelled of nothing but roasted marshmallows and the unseen cloud of a campfire.
So I write some down. Trying to trap the scents on paper as one would trap a firefly in a glass jar, trying to momentarily hold onto to something that really is intangible, that exists only on the threshold between day and night, in those stolen moments of the sun chasing the moon through the heavens across the sky.
how has your weekend been? xo