June
Monday 11 May 2009 photo 1/1
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Time passes.
Even when it seems impossible.
Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does.
Even for me.
Even when it seems impossible.
Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does.
Even for me.
Annons
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