This evening I took the long way past the allotments; empty canes made a small forest of intentions. A lone glove hung on the fence, palm outward, as if to slow the air. I thought of pauses we never declare aloud.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
This evening I took the long way past the allotments; empty canes made a small forest of intentions. A lone glove hung on the fence, palm outward, as if to slow the air. I thought of pauses we never declare aloud.