Versemaker Technic & co.

We live in love. We kiss and touch, and I tear her down and remake her out of clay, or something like that. Now standing, her blonde hair is tricky as it gently flows and falls on her shoulders like a wave hits a sandy shore. A lovely silence follows as night falls, and we spend it reading and sharing stolen sentences.

We live our lives as great storms gather and dissipate. The inside of our home always stays sunny because of her, and I'm her Moon.