A daily Haiku penned by Brix Smith-Start from the front row
Day One at LFW:
A broken dawn of neutral skins.
A mass of individuality,
A common nebula.
But under the sea
The boiling water spat back
The blue black creatures that no one loves.
The ones that died of individuality.
The ones that died of beauty.
Once more
The rising cement greets my head.
