defining discourse

Yesterday we talked about Nietzsche and Jesus. Heidegger. The way empty soda cans feel heavier in Europe. And I told a story about a man with two pairs of glasses hanging from his breast pocket. Of train stations in foreign lands. How the reverse image of a cloud in an unspecified body of water told me the truth about the world while I sat on a park bench in Berlin.

There are pictures in my head.
Limbs like holly branches. Tall. Lanky. Messy blonde hair pleading to be brushed. Someone who knows the meaning of the term - big air. Who knows how to grind. Whose knees and elbows bear the history of kissing asphalt. Practiced it like a religion. Sinister green eyes that reveal truths and youthfulness with every blink.