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This is my studio for exploring my work. Consider these drafts.

Big, beautiful, beatific laugh

A dream sequence

Afterwards you slid on a old slip and some cowboy boots and walked me to my car. There was a wide expanse of parking lot between you and everything that came after you. I took a 250 mile detour to get here, but I didn’t tell you that. Anyway, it didn’t really matter because I didn’t have anywhere to be, and I did tell you that. You squeezed my arm asked if I still had that little orange blimp that I flew around during the street fairs I worked. “Clemente? Yeah, but I gotta take her in get her fixed.” You asked me to wait and ran back to your pad. The sun was coming up behind the Denny’s, and I felt free that you were still so warm and wild and beautiful. You remembered the best parts of everything, and I felt good that I knew that.

Your boots clicking was the only sound in the neighborhood as you ran up, kissed me and shoved some bills in my pocket, “for Clemente.” I’m touched and pull you to me tightly. There’s always a part of me that wonders if any particularly generous moment is the time for a grand gesture. A sign to cool my jets and live in the softness. But, there, I never wanted to see your face in anything but that big, beatific laugh that made me feel so amazing. So I keep saying goodbye.
— Text by S.M. Simões
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by Balthazar Simões