*
It's morning. Loud city doesn't knock. Such a weightless promise, crawls up the walls screaming the watering of cans, the shouting of the scream, the barking of the dogs... are they reasons to remain?
Ash-Wednesday and a cigarette thirst sticks to my throat.
Such a heavy night.
Ash-Wednesday and a cigarette thirst sticks to my throat.
Such a heavy night.
*
1 comment:
Remain in movement: that's a way to remain somehow. And there's the memories, and the madness and all the others "m" that we know, as "miracle" or "marvels". Keep moving, dawn is near.
*hug*
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