we get so caught up and swamped with every little thing around us that we forget to reminisce. to pause. to take in what we call, existing, as much as we could. how silly of us to think that we will always have all the time in the world to do it later. leaving footprints like rough drafts. too many ātry to sleep as much as you couldā left unsaid. too many foreheads and lagoon-deep collarbones left uncharted by lips.
living as if death promised that this isnāt the last stop.
30th of november, 2022.












