Monday, February 06, 2006
Pinned to Your Wall
When I walked down the corridor, the wind just swept me up, and I wished that I could fly past this distance. The air slicing past me as I rose above the streets until they became highways, the highways become state lines etched between chunks of land, higher and higher, until I could barely breathe, and just sit above the world.
Photo - N
Words - S
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