Month: March 2022

our monologues are designed to be prayers

i like to think of this world as a mad mad place

hint of warmth we unravel night limbs

last of winter winds seeking peace

now more than ever our prayers

shield the last ember with bodies from storm

empty telephone booth the fog takes a call

the winter gods bring the rain this birthday

dead fish at the bottom of tank full of tears

all is grey and yet a tiny ember thrives