Day 75
I walk my line backward.
I learn how to;
I begin.
And what part of the air
I breathe
is the same as yours.
My jaw slowly gripping, my
heart beating the rhythm of
freedom
into my throat.
Hear a different story.
It is not too late.
I walk my line backward.
I learn how to;
I begin.
And what part of the air
I breathe
is the same as yours.
My jaw slowly gripping, my
heart beating the rhythm of
freedom
into my throat.
Hear a different story.
It is not too late.