May 1, 2021
/ there are mountains at the edge of the universe /
lonely whalesong that floats at 52, debt in the pursuit of ultramarine blue, rebels on wooden stakes impaled alive, eyes that'll be blinded later but watched them die
to treat the wound is to reopen it
stars only twinkle when we look at them, prometheus gave us fire and had himself condemned, the moon has only a tenth of its shine when half full, I lost a love early last year, the end of it found me infinitely more tearful.
love and loss and love and loss and love and loss And love.
sincerely, Simran