(i carry it in my heart)
I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, but strong and deft. Hands that have the power to mine coal but the precision to set a delicate snare. Hands I trust.
❝I wish you were a stranger I could disengage.
Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.
and that’s enough. There’s us.