Dear Anonymous,
He was some happy with a leather jacket a street friend had donated. His disposition changed. I know what that feels like. A new jacket. Cut just so. With a solid touch of badass to it. He checks his hair. Even takes off his sunglasses. I know this too. This preparation to be seen. His eyes meet me across the distance of the lens.
See me. This is who I am.
See below to see the next image. When his veneer drops and we stand together on a street at dawn. Laughing. And laughing.
And then this. When we stand. And laugh. And laugh.