It’s a chess game.
I have quite the worthy opponent.
And we sit in silence for hours.
The worry has worked its way miles deep down into our foreheads.
One hand drawn to place the piece and then
Relinquish it’s hold.
We’re stuck in this odyssey.
Frame worked in black and white.
It’s perfectly geometric, placed down to an exact measurement in time and space. The absolute precision of placement is driving me mad in this endless silence.
And it seems to stretch on for miles.
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
It’s a chess game.
I have quite the worthy opponent.
And we sit in silence for hours.
The worry has worked its way miles deep down into our foreheads.
One hand drawn to place the piece and then
Relinquish it’s hold.
We’re stuck in this odyssey.
Frame worked in black and white.
It’s perfectly geometric, placed down to an exact measurement in time and space. The absolute precision of placement is driving me mad in this endless silence.
And it seems to stretch on for miles.
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