This isn’t mine.
The crumbly dark dirt underneath my nails. The song birds whistling in the trees. The ants crawling beside me as I pull invasive mustard garlic. And neither the warm sun above.
This isn’t mine.
The crumbly dark dirt underneath my nails. The song birds whistling in the trees. The ants crawling beside me as I pull invasive mustard garlic. And neither the warm sun above.