i maintain, i wait, i drink teas laced with honey. i walk home in the first cool winds of October; the weather has broken. i am in receipt of songs in need of translation. my mind is less obedient than usual.
this is precisely the point.
the impending return,
the close-lipped stutter,
and the loom of the Hallow.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment