My days are like lines, lines that open itself when the alarm wakes, moving the boulder body while outside, always stringing tightly at the sides and loosely are the lines waiting for wet clothes' day hug. Lines of traffic anticipating your grimace either in your driving or mood swing, lines of choruses & beats bouncing in your ears as the outlines of your workplace becomes clearer and nearer. Lines of human robots waiting in line at the turnstile to work and the warm silver linings of the sky.
Coffee.
No comments:
Post a Comment