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