From A to B
I imagine my beginning on the precipice of a fine land. Lines stretching to the horizon and paralleling its expanse. A tartan of social synapse waiting to be walked, talked, navigated. Baby steps do little to discover the distance.
I imagine my beginning on the precipice of a fine land. Lines stretching to the horizon and paralleling its expanse. A tartan of social synapse waiting to be walked, talked, navigated. Baby steps do little to discover the distance.