cross your soul, this is all part of life and death

by Rachel Lynch in

You make me nothing but I don't much care. He taps at my window, hoping that I'll be ready to wake from my slumber. We live in the shadows of the night, the day doesn't recognize our sandy harmony. Maybe I'll write him a story and fall asleep in his arms. His manic brown eyes are blowing embraces in the wind. And until you calm me down, I'll race around this town. God, you're so controlling, what am I to do.

photos by: Kent Lee