you can tell the lifeless shells from the gods the ones who enjoy every drop of rain and the ones who avoid it like the plague
Tag: fiction
exit subway: summer morning and the rain serenades the living dead
coffeeshop break in: mynah trio rattling the window shutters
the day is done and folded neatly archived in the library of the subconscious mind
the early bird: showoff mynah appears on a ledge with its quarry
summer and the sounds of reckless abandon that fills the concrete
summer and the question remains: why is the world so angry?
woken by the murmurs of rain at an ungodly hour
soft padded clouds to reign in your anxieties
hang the dark of my skin out to dry in the blue of dawn
