Sep 2018
you ran with me through the terminal, fleeing
the tranquility of geographical association.
it was always the same: a surrender to the overcast;
we watched the sky fill with paper airplanes.
the tranquility of geographical association.
it was always the same: a surrender to the overcast;
we watched the sky fill with paper airplanes.
prove my hypotheses: tell me you don't love me.
