Textures

I have a friend that sends me photographs
Real ones on glossy paper
All from San Francisco
Nothing makes me happier than receiving those parcels
I love him
He is quirky
Strange
So real
He speaks of knowing me in a past life
More open when I look at his pictures
They fuck my soul
Found something in me that I didn’t know
I am a lover of graffiti
Makes me long for bizarre things
Wanting to be pressed against walls
Concrete digging into my flesh
All of us together
Me
Lover
Artist
Ménage a trois