air by air we soften rocks we across wetly in crook and shale choose chill thread by thread unself into ancient felt
air by air we soften rocks we across wetly in crook and shale choose chill thread by thread unself into ancient felt
We forgo the chipped pathways and lose ourselves in the graying blur of dusk, trees erasing themselves at their edges, becoming memories of
Later than bedtime, we stand in the unpaved road looking up. Neighbors not sure what to believe as we search fixed constellations for