Actually, it’s not something as in some form of unidentifiable feeling or thing. It’s the far less poetic presence of pollen from the trees in this garden that completely messes up my eyes. It’s Monday, kids.
The online space of Caroline Bach
Actually, it’s not something as in some form of unidentifiable feeling or thing. It’s the far less poetic presence of pollen from the trees in this garden that completely messes up my eyes. It’s Monday, kids.