( via / via )

The Voice of the Nightingale.

"...the house that is no more a house,
But only a belilaced cellar hole,
Now slowly closing like a dent in dough."

--Robert Frost

Sequel to a tweet.

crowd of half-created · carollings swims
under the lugged lens · of a light repast
storms restored · to their stern borders
potential · & i take the time to charge
blankness & its ablutions
the last thing i ask of my master card

⚔️.