Landscape December 1, 2014 1:42:51 PM – 1:44:37 PM

On the bus, I wrote you a text message.

Where does ruined language want to go?

I try to draw your radiant eyes in my sentences. In every day, remnants of meaning slid along with me. The air and the songs of the Earth.

And only thought of the lines, of the way they resembled, the way they coloured and charmed and I don’t know what.