that time when things come to visit

Posted on by L.T.L.

the wind makes strange noise in the eaves, and it is the end of january. again.

i pour two shots at three o’clock in the morning: one for myself. one for the wolf.

for it is the hour.

and nothing works.

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Categories: En

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Published by L.T.L.

i was born in the past century. i tried the living fast, but i failed to die young. from all the choices of study before me, i chose linguistics and languages. i am a stranger here, on this earth, on my way to seek my eternal home.