@turksonquills
I started writing because I was afraid of how easily thoughts would disappear. Not the important—but the small ones. How light shifts when I leave a room. The sound of a page turning in the night.
Small observations. They don’t ask to be understood. Only to be recorded and maybe read, slowly.
— Lucía M.
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≻: SHOULD IT EVER GO DARK
Should it ever go dark,Hark back to the days of yoreAnd you’d know that fate was right—We were meant to be. Should it ever go…
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≻: THIS IS US
Love: a bonny symphonic orchestra.At least that was what we desired to be—Needing every excerpt in its extra,And sipping its resplendent creamy brie. Perfection was…
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≻: WHAT SHALL WE EAT?
Meat and fish, gizzard and croaker,All rolled into one steaming hot and large bowlof hunger as harsh as the sun in Sokoto,And lack that grips…
