Don't know what she's trying to recreate. It gets to me. This way there is little that can survive. The catch is that it comes back. Everytime. And it leaves her dazed and happy and breathless. But these little highs are few in between. They never last. The source sways. There is no place like numbers. The sun's rays are digital according to Nim.
I saw the lines today, few hours back. More like bumpy rolls. People never are enough. The irony is staggering. Honestly I want that back. High stress lifestyle and all. There's a buzz in my throat again. Fresh earlobe.
Crave your brand of familiarity.