wrapped
26–09–21
26–09–21
I wasn’t expecting to cry.
I laid a stake in theses cobbled streets the way an astronaut plants a flag on the moon.
Look at you Sarah, look at how you’ve grown: thick-skinned, silver tinsel in your hair, money just numbers floating in the air.
A temporary installation.
A temporary summer.
A temporary life.
I laid a stake in theses cobbled streets the way an astronaut plants a flag on the moon.
Look at you Sarah, look at how you’ve grown: thick-skinned, silver tinsel in your hair, money just numbers floating in the air.
A temporary installation.
A temporary summer.
A temporary life.
