The nature of daylight, found missing, in my occipital cracks. Elegance, played in long-lost frequencies, always somewhere behind me. A quintet of strings braided in the breeze. The smooth skin of aspen arms, reaching to the early winter sky. Surrounded by the bridal trains of unwithered red leaves, and stiff, papery brown bark. A ferryman waits just beyond my fingertips to shuttle me across the infinite concrete rivers of obscurity.
7:49 p.m. - 2020-11-25
Recent entries:
Merry Happiness - 2020-12-23
Sorry, Songbird - 2020-12-23
Worldly Dairyfarm - 2020-12-16
The Oxidization of Life - 2020-12-16
Playing with playthings - 2020-12-09
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