At the library returns slot, a soft thud travels up my wrist as each book disappears. I think of all the little endings that are also beginnings: spines exhaling, shelves making room, a quiet rearrangement nobody sees.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
At the library returns slot, a soft thud travels up my wrist as each book disappears. I think of all the little endings that are also beginnings: spines exhaling, shelves making room, a quiet rearrangement nobody sees.