(no subject)
i guess they did feel like starts, of sorts;
the numbers looked new, lined together at the tops of the pages.
they seemed to say something quiet and purposeful,
a whispering of smaller years.
the wind finally let into my cheeks with rosy color and pale tones.
the blood rose to the surface, for all the sudden cold outside.
but snowless, the ground was warm with the sun and traffic
the numbers looked new, lined together at the tops of the pages.
they seemed to say something quiet and purposeful,
a whispering of smaller years.
the wind finally let into my cheeks with rosy color and pale tones.
the blood rose to the surface, for all the sudden cold outside.
but snowless, the ground was warm with the sun and traffic