Along the allotments, evening gnats spin above the bean poles. Someone has left a mug by the tap, ring of tea cooling the wood. I catch my name said in a stranger’s laughter, then lose it, like a dropped seed.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
Along the allotments, evening gnats spin above the bean poles. Someone has left a mug by the tap, ring of tea cooling the wood. I catch my name said in a stranger’s laughter, then lose it, like a dropped seed.