Lac Wapizagonke, Parc national de la Mauricie
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@moratoriumjane
Lac Wapizagonke, Parc national de la Mauricie

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La río Marañón, Amazonias, Perú
Empapadas in Verdun, QC
Willibrord, Verdun

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Postcards from Suburbia 2
L'Acropole des draveurs, Parc national de la rivière Malbaie
La Grande Baie, Oka National Park.
Warren Falls, Mauricie National Park.
Marché Aux Puces St-Michel

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Lac Rémi, Parc régional des Sept-Chutes.
Lunch time over the falls at the start of the hike
I could write love poems to you, but this couldn’t be deemed love. Not in the colloquial sense, anyway. At most I could call it an infatuation, but it’s not even that. I don’t want you, I don’t want to possess you. I got over that since JT. I just want to hear you, your thoughts rolling in the rhythm of tranced words, hear you in that reaching voice, the run-on sentences, as you reach for the sentiment that’s always beyond your fingertips.
What is it then that I feel, if it’s not love? I feel the tremor of wanting, the tangy glaze of melancholy on my tongue. Your words could tickle my heart, remind me of a self that dreamed of distant worlds and got lost in daydreams of hills and dandelions.
Finnigan Flea Market

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Today I saw a clementine caught on the bottom rung of an escalator. It was trapped on the part where the belt returns underground, just rolling, an orange thing catching the eye against all the grime of winter. Fleshy skin running along grates of iron. A hedonic wheel, some voice tickled on my eardrum.
I thought of you. You’d have liked to film it. But since I forgot to pull out my cellphone lens, I’ll write it for you, the poetic mundane.