Solitude
April 18, 2019•33 words
Those tapping fingers,
unsealing the icy
island of a mind.
Thoughts slip through
and make their way to
little pockets of truth.
One can know comfort
in these basic limits,
a winding contactlessness.
April 18, 2019•33 words
Those tapping fingers,
unsealing the icy
island of a mind.
Thoughts slip through
and make their way to
little pockets of truth.
One can know comfort
in these basic limits,
a winding contactlessness.