Tag: fiction

in the language of mist hills wake like slumbering beasts

cold winds scream at crows as ghost ships unberth and set sail for the void

round the river’s bend you follow ripples that forget to end

raise stone mugs high and toast to the old copper moon

tide meets rust and symbiosis occurs behind veiled designs

daylight folds and microscopic moons bloom from the spine of fish

become a figure of love she says and quietly limbs rebel

words rust and disintegrate before they leave pale lips

bedside alley toes exhume the carcass of a beetle from darkness

stone insects follow the great divide and crawl across summer’s horizon