jonah meyer
untitled #61 (by winter matthew)
the boat sails backwards. the wind is sunburnt-cinnamon. as my silent mind considers for an eternity/moment your delicious blushing smile...
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jonah meyer
babe fashions his own crevice, moon hangs low, glows like neon (by winter matthew)
the boy had fashioned his own crib. he craved escape from the elements, the thunderous applause. now it is nighttime and the boy decides...
jonah meyer
A Slight Miscalculation Can Mean the End
By E.J. Hammon The tiny spaceship sputtered to a slow crawl as it hovered close to the outer ring of the planet some races called Saturn....