LIMINAL by tirektirek

LIMINAL as it should be when I come home in preparation for my solitude when I shadow and it happens, at that time the hot air was stinging even though the sky was dim, stuffy like porters gossiping while waiting for sustenance, the noise that sounded my face mixed and blended into black which turned into gray covered in dust and love AN AUTUMN FOR CRIPPLED CHILDREN.

everything in between

medium.com