once this was an attic.
i promised my creations i’d publish them.
what this once was was a fulfillment of a promise to my babies.
then, a tragedy led to the collapse of that paradiso. but the memory of what this once was is ingrained, so. the scraps of the boxes salvaged from the attic this once was are present in the candidacy of attendance. check marks:
my babies will get their share of virtual dusts and sunlight.