Without so much as a burst of white light, without so much as a beclouded face, lingering — I want to go quietly now, like sawdust in a country road — like seafoam under a gray sunset.
My mind insists on leaving.
Jan 5, 2022
Jan 5, 2022 at 1:19 AM UTC
Without so much as a burst of white light, without so much as a beclouded face, lingering — I want to go quietly now, like sawdust in a country road — like seafoam under a gray sunset.
My mind insists on leaving.
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