Cites at night

The computer keyboard looks like cities from a plane at night while reflecting against a mirror in the dark

Letting it be

The ball’s no longer in my court The world’s a mysterious place

Desolate roads

Presence; butterflies, bees, bugs all over plants

Finding life in the cracks

I Wish I were an ant

They’re always on a mission, hanging out with each other, having a purpose and all.