Tag: Singapore

built a house out of screaming winds and the whispers tore it down

the green of trees curling into smoke and into the nothingness

the jester eats the sky with a spoon one laugh at a time

the demon grass eats rain in twelve directions to the sound of trumpets

held my breath for a century i believe and the wolves applauded

thoughts collided with the teacup and now i am lost for words

guiding the restless and silent through the dark tiny gods of light

the autumn moss breathes in the secret origins of flesh

there is no urgency or consistency in existence but to be as if this being is formless

each note a question and a world crumbles under the weight of that question