it's all talk of stars. talk of the sky. the big black blanket that hangs over us, pretending to cover us and protect. but that's not it. we like to reach out into it- after climbing the ladder and leaving the others behind, and pull at the fabric of the night. make folds and creases, teara hole. but most importantly- pull those glimmers of light out of the sky and into the palm of your hands. just to smother it- or better still, drop it down onto the ground. or into the holes we've already dug, 6ft under.
|
old new book profile design host |