holding the lamplight in this conversation between mynahs
Month: July 2024
thin ice whispers thread lightly across lips
insinuate this bag of skin enough and the rest will fall in place
taking out the trash at the final hour comes death
between words in the pauses laying the bricks of reality
hard breaths of fresh air until the summer fog fades
dusk the children disguise art as a weapon of mass destruction
only the soul can fathom the indescribable void
paper contact the ink flows from grain to brim
summer i feel and i understand the depth of this existence