The dim sliver of the crescent Softly cuts the ceiling in slices The crackling static of the black greyness Noiselessly envelopes. Cradling us in an isolating shroud - Hannah Burns
The dim sliver of the crescent Softly cuts the ceiling in slices The crackling static of the black greyness Noiselessly envelopes. Cradling us in an isolating shroud - Hannah Burns