an old dusty box left in the corner in the nook of never stepped hallway, like a boulder all alone in there, it could be a mourner stayed in, for what felt like an eternity isolated from being, morbidly
exploring the tantalizing sound of silence wondering its mesmeric and ecstatic balance that left her, delirious and lustful for guidance
lights shined through the window, sooner the wind came, rigorously blew dust further, old ***** dust flew sporadically in every corner that She could watch float flawlessly forever
an old dusty box left in the corner She begged to be a no longer.