Posted 7 months ago
23 Notes
Aviators.
Turns her on herself, like the god of self-reflection. Able and unfulfilled, the vision ignites a wrath of silence. The paper says nothing, the clock is moving, the bow unravels. The sign appears and disappears, disappears and interferes. The contents of the volcano are never uncovered. The beat slows, the surface calms, the quiet continues.