our hands are mist separating the night and seas
Tag: monostich
we bury the moon each night and it grows through our ribs
when the flame forgets it’s a flame will the wax harden with vengeance
roots clutch earth like a body that knows its grave
saltwater dreams somewhere a bird forgets its wings
autumn cracks open bones and lets the winds whistle through the marrow
nail beds bloom rust prayers made to the call of an unnamed bird
there is no darkness only flesh pretending to be alive
we too are seeds waiting for wildfires to cremate us
soft dusky skin claimed by the autumn night
elancharan gunasekaran 