(no subject)

[thegreenfile]

we’re in a restless way when the fireflies come
and they light the light where there once was none

I won’t think about next week
I won’t think until tomorrow

just a sight for sore eyes
disguised as a fly

and not a single soul in these woods
ever saw a jaw drop so low as is mine at the moment

imaginary ordinary
it’s you that I belong with