rushing the rudder toward time, levers of tides and turmoils, we cast a sail on certain memories, as if water, as if weather, as if the tumultuous rage of the upturned world has a say in things. When really it is just today that anything is real, this very moment when I read your writing and write back that tells the crazy story not to end.
rushing the rudder toward time, levers of tides and turmoils, we cast a sail on certain memories, as if water, as if weather, as if the tumultuous rage of the upturned world has a say in things. When really it is just today that anything is real, this very moment when I read your writing and write back that tells the crazy story not to end.
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