Your elegy cradles decay with such gentleness, it almost feels like a lullaby for the end of things. There’s no false hope, just quiet observation. And maybe it’s enough to notice the unraveling, softly, without needing to fix it. Perhaps we are not fading but becoming softly, tenderly, something else <3
Your elegy cradles decay with such gentleness, it almost feels like a lullaby for the end of things. There’s no false hope, just quiet observation. And maybe it’s enough to notice the unraveling, softly, without needing to fix it. Perhaps we are not fading but becoming softly, tenderly, something else <3