wilted hands
clutching old photographs
still sending letters to forgotten places
filled with words meant to be written
not read
does my ephemera interest you?
it’s too dark in here for me to tell
rhetorical solipsism
wilted hands
clutching old photographs
still sending letters to forgotten places
filled with words meant to be written
not read
does my ephemera interest you?
it’s too dark in here for me to tell
