On the bus, a child counted the stops as if naming islands. I kept a question in my pocket like a coin, turning it without spending. By evening it had thinned to a sheen, not an answer exactly, more a kindly edge.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
On the bus, a child counted the stops as if naming islands. I kept a question in my pocket like a coin, turning it without spending. By evening it had thinned to a sheen, not an answer exactly, more a kindly edge.