holograms for my lover

by Rachel Lynch


speaking to each other in the hidden tongue, we are manifestations of the ideal. both rhythm and fall out. both celestial bodies and creatures of the night.

we sleep till noon and say i love you too soon. entire days spent sans-phone, hand in hand.

first cups of coffee, smells of summer. central park to soho. everything illuminated. jean jackets and drinks. late nights and white sheets. rolls of film and train rides.

slip into the season like you slip into a new love.

xx

clothing by cloud blvd.