T E A M W O R K

About me:
My name is Lonny James.
Graphic Design, Photography, Turntablism, Walking party calendar.
Follow the link down below to check out my portfolio.
I'm cheap. Hit it
-Lonny Jamess
!COMMENT!
Cover your lips in rice. The sun in the morning when we never slept. The bright rays it inflicts on our sleep deprived skin. Your legs and the way they bruise when you're drunk. The ash of the cigarette and not wanting his mother to find that we had been smoking. The spots of wet stone that we tried to avoid as we walked across to watch the scene. The Birds you found in your hair after you fell asleep. Long nights. Wild Packs of wolves. And the electric fence. Not grounding the wires. Overnights and rest.
Tell her I was a kitten. Meow meow at best. and. Breathe deep like a Brown Bear. Not to be outdone by a kiss. We slept at different angles to the bed as the skin folds into a nest. For the bedbugs, a solution to ward off the dirt. Day to day after night falls. Open mouths under the eclipse. Of the sun and the moon. Of everything else that we knew. We're always kissing the other to make somebody jealous. This fumble is your tool. To know what I know. To write what I am.
And I am every man in town. The last existing receding bloodline. Holland and its fathers. The Brother in law of the earth. Everything eventually comes back to this. My romance on the lawn. At the edge of the grass. So the soil was with our feet. And earthworms. The expensive african blend of daffodil. Just so that you would decide to Leave the house. And the way you sunbathe your tan. So I am every smoker you've kissed. The edge of the Bed. You tip off the tongue. The bigger lips you've stretched. Tripping over our words. i want to think your thoughts because they're mine. Every second that you waste. Every minute that you're mine.
And what saviors you have saved. What beautiful architects you've built. Strong men of power. Ice milk and how we discuss what you feel. Shaking the knots from the ribbon, we tie back all of the hair to think. For a more efficient brainstorm. So that the gears might have a chance to turn. In such a small house. In faults that we'll regret. The comfort that is spread, the awkward hilt of your breath. On the sun. Power upon power upon passionate hands. We dig through dirt to keep the earth worms astray. To mix up homes in the earth again.