1411 7 5
|
my God, I have no time, no time
|
1087 5 3
|
It's 2am. The wind is moving at speed, whipping gently the tree branches, and their leaves rustle simultaneously to create a audible sound, like hands flipping through sheets of paper, or that feeling you get on your fingertips when going across a textured surface. I'm…
|
965 5 4
|
We are a city of overworked workers.
|
1179 7 7
|
maybe eventually time / will erase our time together
|