season before anyone gets there. clean airports. season for new roads and sidewalks. haircuts to die for. fancy dress outfitters. convenience stores. spare parts for rocket ships. strong coffee.
(2) slack
season of our eventual reunion. in a sunny room where it’s always possible to forecast the weather. bicycle riding. small kittens and dictionaries. rocks thrown at windows. expensive bath mats. blindfolds.
(3) wet
season of immigration towers and state peace. aladdin released. addresses blocked. visas refused. unfinished books. boredom. looping playlists. correspondences. hot telephones. text. scarves. puddles.
(4) slow
season of skyline highs. arranging escapes. throwing out old clothes. empty flats. one bowl of milk per day. subtitles and dark sunglasses. blurry stars. postcards. batteries. champagne.
