just to see if you can
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
perfect. absolutely perfect.
[if you were wondering, it's ezra pound as suggested by my brother in an attempt to find the words for what it feels like to hang on a precipice before the maw of lonliness personified, or the feeling of belonging as a unique and unidentifiable part of a crowd that somehow is connected as a whole. and wow- can you tell it's paper-season around here? hahahahaha].