arcartistik

"Times like these. Someone is writing and we are only words." -Xai I. Bergamot a small tree there you were beneath it and lifting one arm up, throwing one arm back, in a Venetian garden (I think; the details are unclear now, muted nouns) and reaching for it, stretching and reaching, while the strangest nakedness bathed your body, softened by sunlight. I thought: if only I could paint you as you are in my deepest of dreams, with sour citrus fruits. II. Astrolabes a medieval invention plotted the course of our stars today; jokingly, we listen to the fortune teller who says 'You were alchemists in a life past, but I do not kno