pale skin...
[side note: I can hear portishead traveling down the hallway,
on a scratchy little record player,
coming from the other room..it's true.
takes me back to days of riding on the train everyday,
with my earphones on,
staring out the window as things fly by,
waiting to hear-
'Last stop, Union Station'...]
and rare vintage finds...
hair half tucked under and pinned to the side-
perhaps if June Miller was thrown into a modern day...
and was sitting in the middle of union station in one of those
large brown leather club type chairs...
soundtrack for the day...
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