where are we?
some places speak in languages
uninterrupted
outside: the wind does not stir
and then, and then...
...through the screen comes an image of a cloud unusually top heavy, as if rain were behind it, not inside it. To capture such a passing moment means you are there with me, just out of reach, or in a nimbus of your own. But since I think of you so often, there is this sense of time passing by me, or me passing time by means of seeing something suspicious in the sky, something not the same ever again. 3/20 sf, ca
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