
Thank God again for the smoke and the shadows, practically nothing, but everything at this speed: the flower that’s now bloomed over her cigarette, the shadow of his lighter, like a tin ashtray cleaved in two.⠀
Thank God again for the smoke and the shadows, practically nothing, but everything at this speed: the flower that’s now bloomed over her cigarette, the shadow of his lighter, like a tin ashtray cleaved in two.⠀