Aug 2020
Brushing my hands,
An invitation
To a wavering future.
The still;
Almost silent glass,
Beckoning me closer.
However,
All I can do
Is ripple the surface,
Breaking a glassy illusion.
An invitation
To a wavering future.
The still;
Almost silent glass,
Beckoning me closer.
However,
All I can do
Is ripple the surface,
Breaking a glassy illusion.
