| summered | ||
| klairchen |
There is something about summer that makes me want to weep. In the air there is a thickness that makes each breath an effort. In the trees there is a saturation of greeness that makes each branch hunch over like it is ill. In the sky there is a brighness that either gathers beings to revel in its noxiousness or forces beings inside of air-conditioned dwellings. And all I want is to surge ahead into winter so I can breath a bit easier again. After becoming summered. |
000812 |