Naturally walked.
Even the alacrity in the spots.
Stars the undoing of nervous endeavors.
And pines made of thought thrown asunder.
The globes.
Softly speaking.
And smile fragile.
Then gone.
The spiral orb.
She waits.
In arms.
Tended to in black.
Asked in gloom.
Pillaging mind wasting.
And rest.
In a frantic sooth.
Garrett Johnson
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 8:13 PM UTC
Naturally walked.
Even the alacrity in the spots.
Stars the undoing of nervous endeavors.
And pines made of thought thrown asunder.
The globes.
Softly speaking.
And smile fragile.
Then gone.
The spiral orb.
She waits.
In arms.
Tended to in black.
Asked in gloom.
Pillaging mind wasting.
And rest.
In a frantic sooth.
Garrett Johnson
Where'd you go?
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