This is a conjoined effort to diseminate the pithy frequencies that bind two souls left to bake on beaches assailed by Sundays perpetual bell tolls, and derive some kind of healing through sharing. Kayla and Chris are both gemstones, are both vegetables, are both dreamers, travellers, excited burgeoners. Its dark outside this womb and wallet, this planet. Both hope to console one another through all the abysmal bile that could seap in, like urine thrown from heaven. Kayla is soft and beautiful, more friendly than Parisian idee. Chris is wise, and the age that doesnt show on his birth certificate comes in the form of a wrinkled forehead.

We were born in the August of 2003, on the fated strength of a mutual acquaintance.