Brightening never strikes the same place twice. I'm trying hard not to be taciturn, but this whole thing is yanking my chain. Maybe I'm losing perspective. I can't tell, I don't feel like I am. Perspective is defined by the scene, though, isn't it? I hate to be so pessimistic.
Bone on old bone, pressed hard against a broken stone. stutter of pace a loss of face memories of a tone here I hang lost in grace caught between clatter and clang
D-rev.
