TWFairchild

the city that made a desire of me (- Nathalie Stephens)  

I won’t say that I didn’t know, or that I was never going to know. Light lay its quickened heart against the cellophane of a silvered window. What lay in preservation now rippled and severed. I had shards in my hands that went slack. Crumpled to rustles. Between the world and myself, there was nothing.

Now you. You will gladly say that you did this, that you made it happen. But you will not be held, accountable nor accounted for. You will not be kept to what revenants cry outside your domain. Coming or going has to remain your choice