الصوت المشترك

He looks like he’s sleeping, but I know better. I colored the moon yellow so he’d think the sun was finally coming up, but the blue ink just kept drowning him. It’s heavy, isn't it? The way the ink sinks into the paper and never comes back out. I’m just waiting for the page to turn so I can forget I ever made him exist. Sleep well, little one. The void is much warmer than the light anyway."