The road opens forward from my chest. Thoughts – headlamps scouring for form. That which I held the most, first to leave. Sand grain, dust, waves of dryness, desert, clearest sunrise. I’ll walk on alone.
The road opens forward from my chest. Thoughts – headlamps scouring for form. That which I held the most, first to leave. Sand grain, dust, waves of dryness, desert, clearest sunrise. I’ll walk on alone.