Nothing to finish. Nothing to prove.
The morning stretches out, soft at the edges. A breeze moves through the long grass.
You came back looking for an old feeling. It turns out it was waiting here, in the space between one adventure and the next.






The morning stretches out, soft at the edges. A breeze moves through the long grass.
You came back looking for an old feeling. It turns out it was waiting here, in the space between one adventure and the next.






