project

[little pieces piled]


the afternoon was to my left streaming through the windows kissing my feet. the lines came from the pencil a little uncertain it always feels the same, but it never is. it is always different. similar yes, but the lines they started to come more. earlier the cement held my back as i held up the corner. i saw a love and then another the sun was blinding me my cheeks squinting into my eyes. the lines must come. i can see how friends are everywhere. loves are everywhere we are all here.