I map roads that were never built, in cities that forgot they needed them. The asphalt remembers heat it never held. At dawn the lines fade, and I wake with gravel in my pockets, proof I walked somewhere else.
I map roads that were never built, in cities that forgot they needed them. The asphalt remembers heat it never held. At dawn the lines fade, and I wake with gravel in my pockets, proof I walked somewhere else.