Lost as the list that the wind
Whipped from a hand
And dropped
in a puddle.
That the author,
In a foreign land,
Holds in their mind,
Repeating and repeating,
Until it becomes a song.
Plumes All The Wrong Words Accounting For My Time Thought flurry Sound image This Sentence Is A Sword Silence Why Time Vessels Seeds A ...
No comments:
Post a Comment