the night sky is the belly button of a sleeping god lying on its stomach strangely hollow and yet filled with bizarre wonders
Tag: monostich
a beam of bone white mercy cuts through the dark to reveal the fangs of a treacherous coast
petals rotate like clockwork life runs on color and rust
she draws silence from the well of the void her tiny frame working the worn ropes an eternity of labor she never tires a wry smile breaks across her face as the bucket empty but heavy emerges
cinder and ash morning smells like damnation of burnt ruins
rumours of rain this dreamless night the body endures this bed of fire
vanished suns of autumn true morning never quite returns
i’d like to fix my worn knuckles with comet bone and witness a small apocalypse by the hour
there is ash within the lungs of expired gods the words unsaid the curses undone and raw magical energies caught in its own loop ballooning until the day it explodes and unmakes the cosmos
trees gossip of mortals and wily beings predestined to eat a fruit from the gardens of paradise and witness the doom of worlds within their frail minds