st. laurel

marvellous things.  my mind feels like a scrapbook.  except its not just full of images, but also sounds, smells, etc.  cool air and cut grass.  birds in trees.  good books.  shade and flowers.  sun and heat and asphalt.  the way certain words feel in my mouth.  my hair is dirty and my nail polish is chipped.  images.  my senses flood sometimes when i am just lying the dark.  so much that i have to turn on the light and write.  right?