walked around williamsburg today after traveling a total of 3 hours to and from the bronx for an interview. nice people, but the daily commute will be killer.
21.
there's something visceral and unpolluted in warm tortillas
a network of modal train stations
spray painted on the walls of each four chambers
that arrive not a minute late
a sea of tofu and bacon collide
marking white t-shirts
an empty canvas for fashion nightmares
orange tangerine soda bottles pop and lock on my table
as a pitcher of horchata leans on a broken counter top
and waits for the picadillo to catch the next flight home
egg yolks late for track meets
walk sideways over foil
past the mountains of red beans steaming in preemptive salsa volcanoes
rupturing from shifting ceramic plates and attacking plastic butter knives
under full moons of metallic grins
that are hungry for this meals evening harvest
bhurin
playlist:
four tet - rounds
tegan and sara - so jealous
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