it pours with little intimidation. soft trickling along goosebumps. gentle to love. the warm invitation to seclusion. there is something clear and empty about today. nothing matters and nothing is alive, yet everything is wakening. the streets barren. trees tongue passion.
louder than humans. louder than syntax. and just as my thought finishes the howling of gusts comes to its bow.the unpredictability of Seattle. sometimes i adore this city. sometimes i don’t.