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In the hope of grasslands stands an ancient Baobab tree somewhere, a village of dust & dirt, wakes slowly she ties her shoelaces an elephant walks past on the distant horizon the camera breaks right at that moment when she wants to take a picture to bring home so she resorts to postcards, half-written letters & learning the language so she could impress them the hotel porter, a lean boy of merely twenty-two watches her his hunger is written like lightning in his eyes
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
The Holiday
In the hope of grasslands stands an ancient Baobab tree somewhere, a village of dust & dirt, wakes slowly she ties her shoelaces an elephant walks past on the distant horizon the camera breaks right at that moment when she wants to take a picture to bring home so she resorts to postcards, half-written letters & learning the language so she could impress them the hotel porter, a lean boy of merely twenty-two watches her his hunger is written like lightning in his eyes
dreams-of-sepia
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
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