esboço

the little drops of rain cover the window
as the plane gets faster and higher
after three hours nap
i ask why and to where we're running

"my back is hurt, the door is shut
infiltrate yourself in the queue
they might not notice us"

"flight number five hundred and five
now boarding at gate eleven."
the bees are coming off the hive


sujeito a mudanças e a adições.