The creases in my hands
number the string of nights
in wait over her response
Head now lifted up
there is a sun in the sky
This day of days
Is a torch amongst faint candles
Writing about technology, software engineering, the craft, and coding
The creases in my hands
number the string of nights
in wait over her response
Head now lifted up
there is a sun in the sky
This day of days
Is a torch amongst faint candles