As if you actually died in that dream and woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines
I miss you too. Something old is broken,
Today, my love, leaves are thrashing the wind
The city purrs, it hums along, the morning hardly risen. A well-dressed drunk smears her finger across a doorman's lips and whispers.
Many setups. At least as many falls. Winter is paralyzing the country, but not here.
Because it all just breaks apart, and the pieces scatter and rearrange without much fanfare or notice.
I don't know man trust is a precious thing a kind of humility Offer it to a snake and get repaid with humiliation