Eye and Storm–Robin O’Brien

Robin’s voice sweeps over you like a gust of lapping saltwind. No – a monster hurricane just gone. Your wipers don’t work. Your radio’s dead. Your heart beats fast as you sit behind the dashboard looking up at the beauty all the mess has made. After the storm. After the pain. After leaving Soho. Chelsea. Whatever-city-and-lover. . . Bobby Vacant, poet and songwriter

Eyehere