colony
grounded, tired, awake in the long bright room. the day is a wheat woven gold. i am my own first born daughter. alike any other, forgotten and slight, i flatten at the edges. i slip through the cracks, i traverse the seam.

grounded, tired, awake in the long bright room. the day is a wheat woven gold. i am my own first born daughter. alike any other, forgotten and slight, i flatten at the edges. i slip through the cracks, i traverse the seam.
