Masses pass in avid conversation, heads thrown back in fits of laughter. A forest of legs passing by, a dizzying pace, as if I’m sprinting through a forest of pines, or it’s the pines sprinting, and I’m the one standing still.
Masses pass in avid conversation, heads thrown back in fits of laughter. A forest of legs passing by, a dizzying pace, as if I’m sprinting through a forest of pines, or it’s the pines sprinting, and I’m the one standing still.
Christy Leos