rooftop smilesStaring in to a strangers glass you don’t want to recognize the face looking back.rooftop smiles
Whispers of songs come through the doors and walls. Familiar music playing from a distant time that has no date and holds no particular circumstance. Only shorts glimpses of faces.
We are great friends with the space of time each individual song takes up. A glazed over world in muted tones. A record disc bass line bent and scratched by the pressure of needles. Soaring, dreaming injections. Time depends on the beat of the music. Skip a beat and time skips with it. Unsure if what you are seeing are flickers o
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Some things just need to be.
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