CrappingRainbows

The house was ripe with once secret romances that seemed to sink between the couch's cushions and cling to rain-washed window panes. Activity of flickering insects tapped against the sill, saturating the walls with ghostly shadows while breathless streams of sunlight swam around them. The room held a kind of lukewarm emotion. One that still pervaded the air with faint, lavender quills and settled on the shoulders of its occupant. In a vibrant lull, it dusted my conscience with petty apparitions of once absolute memories. All of which now sits in a pile on the floor, awaiting organization. Horizontal landmarks of growing c