View source for Holes
A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
← Holes
You do not have permission to edit this page, for the following reason:
You can view and copy the source of this page.
Return to Holes.
Love of mine, someday you will die. But I'll be close behind and I'll follow you into the dark, no blinding light or tunnels to gates of white, just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark.