Dimensions of Human Behavior
Shortly after we last spoke, you became a ghost, and I became a hermit. The sideboard where you kept the silver and the candles in a house on a river in Laurel Lake is now in my living room in Watertown, down the street from another river, and filled with books with titles like Dimensions of Human Behavior. I am twenty pounds heavier, stuck in my chair writing papers about why people do what they do, and you are the scent of silver polish steeped in brown velvet, a reflection in all of my baby photos, just out of reach.
Art Credit: Leanda Xavian
Very nice. Sad and beautiful.
Wow, striking. Beautiful.
Love this.