Nothing on this earth that I love like I love you

spatch took two photos of our evening which he called the signifier and the signified.

( Turn the glasses over. )

I am sure construction will resume tomorrow morning at unspeakable hours—our street is a tableau of traffic cones, earth-moving equipment parked for the night, patch asphalt, metal plates, and an extremely large pile of dirt—but soft-serve at dusk is also important.