Platforms
objkt
Description
on the stone lip of the seine i wait, beer warm, bones cold, breath quiet. paris forgets to blink this late.
the moon, not yet red, hangs in debt to something ancient, watching slow. i sip. i wait. i don’t forget.
soon she’ll rise in rust and shame, pulling night like a tide through the frame. and i’ll still be here, waiting, unchanged.
paris, 2015
gramsdidit.com
On-Chain Data