They’re hardly going to miss you, don’t look back to Gomorrah. There’s a karmic relationship between me and the plethora of pettifoggers. An ironic leaf petal spinning like a helicopter, whistling whirlwind, warping through the breeze, falls onto my skin, wafting through the fabric, blasting through my membranes. I need to stop overthinking every situation. Sometimes a leaf falling is just a leaf…
