Something I wrote a few days ago…
Simple face, simple speech,
only ever asked for simple things when she was asked-
“What would you like to do?” To do.
“It’s up to you.”
She sneaks out of her house to see the silent skies not knowing the night she’d chosen to glorify uncertainty was the same night the Absolute would fall into her world.
She’s wearing the silk blouse she wore that day when the man behind the counter stuttered nervously in her presence. She can taste the cold. She can feel her nipples numbing beneath the Chelsea blue. The moon lets her have this night to herself and slips behind the church roof.
The air is fresh enough to feel it fall asleep on the back of her neck.
Tiptoeing on the below-the-hip brick wall, she makes her way to the end of the street.
She halts as she starts to feel herself hollowing, the weight…
View original post 783 more words