Photo by Malvestida on Unsplash
It's not real, not the
hands or the wheels. A season's
delusion, now kneel.
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About the Creator
Willem Indigo
I spend substantial efforts diving into the unexplainable, the strange, and the bewilderingly blasphamous from a wry me, but it's a cold chaotic universe behind these eyes and at times, far beyond. I am Willem Indigo: where you wanna go?
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Moment
What a view. A necessity it may seem, in a dream nowadays, that the report is due on Monday, the deadline was reached four days ago, and you’ve enticed your readers with the sultry presence of fabled outer limits danced upon for data astrophysicists will drool over.
By Willem Indigoabout a year ago in Poets
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