The Wave Organ, like San Francisco herself, is gorgeous and hard and weird. We walked out on the dirt path past the fancy yacht club to listen to the acoustics of the tides bounce off the sculpture’s concrete pipes and into our ears. After the bottles of wine were empty, we stripped down to our underwear and jumped into the bay, Alcatraz at eye level as our teeth chattered and we held each others goosebumped bodies. Her black hair was wet and matted to her forehead when we kissed, our mouths filled with the Pacific.
-
ileftmymindinsanfrancisco reblogged this from bayisbetter
-
bayisbetter posted this
