softhought

in the afternoon of your life
- you draw a sunset out of symbols
- you hang up your landry in front of it
- you sleep in a hammock in your eyelids
but there is a string you see
you wish you could grab so that you could uncork
the world

to unleash all that rushing happen.

for you, it would seem
- a powdered sound over your lashes
- silly rain tappings on the awnings over your forehead
- a breeze through your air

mm..