i've got my back against the wall. i've got my feet planted firmly in this... i break the surface to breath again for the first time. chill november air burns my nostrils. (a fleeting moment - soon stolen). and i can never look at this the same again... (there are two types of people in thisworld... the dead, and the dying.)
|
|
-----------------
|
The Delicate Sound Of An Explosion
|
| Sadaharu |
