He thumbs a spark, his other hand cups loosely to protect it. I feel across my shoulders, through my hair - a sudden salt-breeze lick away the flame. The cigarette rests now, in the fractured gun of two fingers. Everything is quiet. I think that maybe I’m a little bit broken.
6d ago
May 29, 2026 at 2:18 PM UTC
He thumbs a spark, his other hand cups loosely to protect it. I feel across my shoulders, through my hair - a sudden salt-breeze lick away the flame. The cigarette rests now, in the fractured gun of two fingers. Everything is quiet. I think that maybe I’m a little bit broken.
