(no subject)

[emchy]

the thunderstorm is rolling in
it's getting cold and beautiful
my skin still smells like the dusky sweat of earlier sunny and 80 degrees
i still taste sunscreen on my lip that the rain is about to wash away
the quarter is waiting
the rainclouds are watching
soon there will be poet tours and fresh oysters
tomorrow night we stand along our poet soldier as he debuts a new open mic
this place woos me
every fucking time