untitled 1after one has been sitting in the rain for a certain long amount of time, it becomes difficult to decifer between one's own tears, and those of the sky. i would assume the only way to tell how long the rain had been pouring could be determined by the puddles forming in the asphalt cracks. the sidewalk has turned to dark slate, and the streetlights now stare at their reflection on the ground. the only sounds are the raindrops as they play their different instruments. a leaf, a rock, a cheek.untitled 1
chips of glass and timea glass bottle, sitting in the dust. left god knows how long ago by some careless person. small rainbows appear in the empty places, the chips taken out from time. time touches all, coming, changing, and though it takes with it those precious pieces and chips that belonged to us once, there is always some positive experience left in it's plac, a little rainbow.chips of glass and time
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