07 | melody

There was a girl, always playing with strings of her guitar in the middle of the night. When the night used to get darker, she tried to find the web of shadows.

shadows, playing in the dark. Just like when you raise your hands, but it's creating a new ajar drifting. It's closing, it's gaping, it's coming, yet it's not beside you.

Now, there's the melody— the guitar is glistening with grey dust of webs. No one is there to untangle the untagging.

Melody, melody, melody,

Where are you?

. . . .

Eeh, melody what did I write?