(no subject)
[OOM: The pain that sets you free]
It's been two months here, but a year in his time outside. Now, a certain poet is back, essentially hiding in the furthest booth from the main crowd he can find, in its least noticable corner, sulking over a notebook and a mug of (spiked) cocoa.
If you can find him, you can say hello. He may not say much. Or he may. One never knows.
It's been two months here, but a year in his time outside. Now, a certain poet is back, essentially hiding in the furthest booth from the main crowd he can find, in its least noticable corner, sulking over a notebook and a mug of (spiked) cocoa.
If you can find him, you can say hello. He may not say much. Or he may. One never knows.