I struggle to find words, textures for the imagery of fatigue. The cool glass refreshes my tired eyes just for moments. Wake up, I yell through the deep layers of cells in the center of my body. I cannot weary. The wet hotness of the kitchen towel rests against my eyes. His snores across from me percolate like the coffee he drink so often. I am her, rested for an eternity, contained in those scant minutes
Rocío (Ro) Christensen
@rocio · 0:09
I love this. I love the contrast of the cool glass and the and the hot towel. That's that's very feels very vivid