Writers block. Stop and twist. Take a sip. Lost in beer rings and simple things. I take a glance to my left and my eyes linger. Is it the simplicity of travel? Magic ignition. Lights from fire a thousand years old cast wicked sparkles in starstruck expression. Tacit belief in something so brief. Am I living? What I've struggled for. Romance in our breathing, and here I am still thinking in fantasy. A thousand years - a thousand miles - can't change a simple thought. Lips moist, the drink tracing thoughts, cool down my throat. Hm. I think this one will stay unfulfilled. But my minds eye is full. So deliciously full.
04.28.11 - Malaga, Spain.