placelessness.the cedars in texas sometimes slightly smell like the pines in colorado. Turn of the century lighting on the pedestrian mall so much like36 cafes at night burning the streets of paris.37 This smell: your hair on a pillow I've never slept on.38 Hey, let's go get a beer at---shit. Waking up, still disoriented in time zone when I look at the clock, always able to overcompensate for living; inky colons marking the insides of my thighs: not thumbprints.my zone(s) mixed in these zone, those moments before waking and the blinds are lilting; someone out39 for fresh produce.