It seems like summer has just pounced on us
And winter had seemed so endless
Like drowning out of sight of shore -
It feels like summer has just pounced.
But with its light nights and happy dawns
Comes the sadness of every summer
A remembrance of childhood dreams
They never came true – I had faith in them.
Happy Easter to all, the weather's back and I split my time between cowering inside tingling and checking shoulders and forehead in the mirror, and basking gloriously. I'm reading Fingersmith by Sarah Waters which is amazing and I can't seem to apply myself for very long to anything else. The poem's very recent, the picture is Pont Nerf in Paris, done in black ink and then altered in photoshop.
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