Heaven, is like lounging on a soft towel, listening to the waves as it empties on the beach, inundated by a sea of rock starts like surfers, immersing yourself on the art brazing the wall and letting go, losing your spirit in the breeze that was one cold Sunday afternoon. And just how the script read.
tourism
Glance At The Wonderland
I wish I knew tomorrow, its color, door, smell, language, breath, embrace, warmth, style, makeup, mathematics, stories. I wish I could hold it on my arms boogie on all the way down the train downtown, make my best accessory du jour but I don’t know tomorrow. I know, however, it is always promising, full of accolades and blessings, dance and music, books and pens. It is never perfect but perfect enough for I to call it mine, drive through with my rooftop up, shootout to whoever at the bus stop that I have spoken to the Man Up Upstairs and He told me to tighten the seatbelt, buckle up, sit still and breathe. I got this, He said and I replied, ok, my seat is up, decorated and ready to mingle with tomorrow.
©️ Angela Aguiar
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Venice, You Had Me at Hello!
Open doors, never empty. Let the imagination wonder away, breathing through the open yard, breaking into the chary designed sky, protected in plain view needing to scape. Driving through, time stood still. Venice, you had me at hello!
©️ Angela Aguiar
ludlum drive 
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