Over Ammonius.
- Geslacht
- Vrouw
I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightening, but you hear the echoes.
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