day 7 - your love
If Autumn is dust, then Spring is a fever. It melted all of the icicles that pinned us to the ground, pinned us down and chilled us. And we fell asleep where we were, on buses or in roads, in secret dens made of bedsheets and glowing with lamplight, a beacon in the dark, the North Star. I think if we all built a den and lit a lamp we could make constellations here on Earth, a reflection of the sky, Cassiopeia in Oxford, Pegasus in Paris. If we map everything out we can never be lost.
- love a.
