These trees on the way home from class are quintessentially autumnal, but my south asian mind is bungeeing into spring and childhood, because it's the kind of green touched by yellows, pinks, and oranges, that we'd call "tender mango leaf."_
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
if meaning is made of anything
the air feels full of florid messages from the future every black pebble I gather whispers reminders for later how easily your attention s...
No comments:
Post a Comment