Memory Blossom / Never too Late
An Influx of Dreams Curtailed by the Softest of Voices
An Influx of Dreams by the Softest of Voices
And There Were No More Lines to Draw
Nothing Feels Permanent Anymore
Singular in the Afterthought Alone
Slow, the Hydroponic Bird Grows
The Temporal Existence of Memories As Blossom
Trying to Keep Everything Together
an influx of dreams curtailed by the softest of voices
singular in the afterthought alone
slow, the hydroponic bird grows