Well..
This one’s simple.
I surface where the lights shimmer dim,
a cameo in a fleeting tale sung by two,
not at the start, nor the end, but before the clock has marched quince, that is where you’ll glimpse me.
.
.
.
Where to now?
Well..
This one’s simple.
I surface where the lights shimmer dim,
a cameo in a fleeting tale sung by two,
not at the start, nor the end, but before the clock has marched quince, that is where you’ll glimpse me.
.
.
.
Where to now?