I'm downstairs from your window... I think it's ten thirty, we're calling from Spokane, Washington. Did you find your shit? You gotta watch the motin' Nikolas, your fuckin' memory just goes out tha window. We couldn't find it in the van at all, we wonderin' if you looked in that trash can. When we threw out that trash, man, was the bag in your hand, did you dump it? Call later. Bye.
Tonight, we're the sea and the salty breeze
the milk from your breast is on my lips
and lovelier words from your mouth to me
when salty my sweat and fingertipsOur hands they seek the end of afternoon
My hands believe and move over youTonight, we're the sea and
the rhythm there
the waves and the wind and night is black
tonight we're the scent of your
long black hair
spread out like your breath
across my back
Your hands they move like waves over me
beneath the moon, tonight, we're the sea
Public Broadcasting.
Siddhartha. Beneath The Wheel. Crime and Punishment. Either/Or.