And there in the dark is but a single light to leave an impression upon the inky space, like the first stroke of a pen upon a blank canvas. For is that not both the colours of that which is in itself trying to be remembered but has forgotten itself upon a wind. So to leave like thoughts with like places and pondering of those who hath came before an to come after for another day. In flame liked clean photographs of things trying to remember themselves and people drifting in a sea of doubt. Though have I yet to be surer.
Delemonico · Thu Dec 04, 2008 @ 06:37am · 0 Comments |