Freeze Frame
I remember the sunset spilling down, birds and insects threading their small songs through the greenhouse.
I remember the quiet nights, my lone steps echoing the crescent moon's curve.
I am my own freeze frame. I am my own afterimage.
I remember the sunset spilling down, birds and insects threading their small songs through the greenhouse.
I remember the quiet nights, my lone steps echoing the crescent moon's curve.
I am my own freeze frame. I am my own afterimage.