Day 982, our graveyard. Day's pictures, Poetry Lost writings, their meaning on an old machine, a lost pride. The last paint, final it’s value, what’s left at the end it is character, that exists written in awareness, our graveyard. Nochrisis Share this: Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Like Loading... Related