with shades of red that go down.
The sun is a specter now, we worship ocean rain
gods drinking the clouds.
Shadow is our day, hungering for evening’s devour.
Tapping out a message from your January cell
I listen, decoding, hearing you from mine.
January 2002
with shades of red that go down.
The sun is a specter now, we worship ocean rain
gods drinking the clouds.
Shadow is our day, hungering for evening’s devour.
Tapping out a message from your January cell
I listen, decoding, hearing you from mine.
January 2002