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Nov 2019
the road home wound and swirled like a coil
the music on the radio tuned out like white-noise
and the sun had set to a point where everything lit up in red
a crimson so deep
it stained the trees, the grass
the tall towering buildings, the calm suburban neighbourhoods
the cracked pavements, the dark alleyways
the glass shop windows, the exposed brick of an abandoned structure
the glossy sides of the cars that drove infront of us, the concrete we drove on
the faux leather seats, the metal of the adjustable headrest
the tips of my hair, the tips of my fingernails
my skin, and all of the things that sat with me in silence

i close my eyes

and i feel.
other title: crimson hour
lua
Written by
lua  16/F/on the moon
(16/F/on the moon)   
589
     lua and BR Dragos
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