sunday, before noon: blue sky, windows cracked open – cold cold on the feet.

watch music videos from love to love

stromae – alors on danse

tune-yards – bizness

habanot nehama – so far

until my chest feels like a warm bagel, and the music spreads like melting butter across it, soaking in, putting images of nothing but love into my skin, into my body, so that i melt, meld with the ground, tel aviv, the vibration of the floor, dance club, nantes, the smell of summer, sussex county, new jersey.


About scribblelip

walking down the road with a book of conjugations in my hand.
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