When shadows turn into pictures, then ideas about the past, it's a silky hereafter, a subterfuge. But there is comfort in the darkness, a blurring of all that noise, a mystery that never is solved. Sit here beside me and spin round your stories of Madagascar?
When shadows turn into pictures, then ideas about the past, it's a silky hereafter, a subterfuge. But there is comfort in the darkness, a blurring of all that noise, a mystery that never is solved. Sit here beside me and spin round your stories of Madagascar?
ReplyDelete