Tag: monostich

we replace cold limbs with pleasure and fire

warm bodies slave to the cold

we belong in flesh and mind to the night rain

you’d find another tired face in your palms

boarding the express train empty shells

blue hour the concrete struggles to stay grey

the evening rain sings the blues

sound of a match striking and sparks instantaneously devoured by the darkness

deformed shadows in the fog silent hill

the autumn night accepts this body as vessel