it’s july. the flags are spilt out into the wind as if they’re meant to fly away, and they droop and sigh when they find that their best attempts to be free are skirted by what’s holding them up in the first place.
I don’t know what she’s doing now but I’m sure she’d smile at all the ways fireworks light up the sky when the moon’s not doing its job.
(via kttlyn)
Notes
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