sunday
he holds my hand as i walk the streets with my eyes closed. the cars thunder on beside us, the sun keeps on with the heat on my face, and the wind still yawns in my ears.
from here, close eyed and with my fingers in his fingers, i can see.
an endless series of unfinished thoughts
he holds my hand as i walk the streets with my eyes closed. the cars thunder on beside us, the sun keeps on with the heat on my face, and the wind still yawns in my ears.
from here, close eyed and with my fingers in his fingers, i can see.