ph: devina
love lies down on the cold, cold asphalt ground. the evening afterglow had kindly left the horizon. the streets bathed in mute lights as innocuously as loneliness. she went out with a thick paperback, a pack of cigarettes, a notebook, and a pen in her bag. she'd lie down on the cold asphalt pavement to gaze at the indigo sky. she'd notice the colors passing by, melting into the intense grayness the way the passage of time being downed by the edge of nothingness. the city was asleep. she would be writing down her dreams about a harbor far away. a harbor at the edge of an island framed by a metropolis. the harbor that went along really well with the southern sea as if they were made together in the day of creation. at night, the sea would be so dark it'd be hard to differ it from the night sky. every morning someone would step on one of her velvet boots to wake her up.
and she'd wake up, with a cigarette dangling between her lips, she'd wake up, holding with her the dreams of a harbor far away. a harbor at the edge of an island. love lies down on the cold, cold asphalt ground.
