its just that i love these lights.
because flowers bloom amongst wrinkled rocks.
the red shoes
“perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing” Sylvia Plath
How frail the human heart must be- a mirrored pool of thought. Sylvia Plath
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary. The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue. “The Moon and the Yew Tree”