Tag: tanka

in a language older than my soul i hear the roots speak

like a lost lover silence clings to brittle bones of branches

drifting disconnected winds rush amok this morning

a universe built from paper and each fold blacking out a sun

a canvas undone by the artist’s gaze the world vanishes from fingertips

madness is the pigeon who carries a letter without words

eyes like windows shatter before dawn as angels fall

tied a red thread to my tongue and spoke until my mouth was full of knots

crack open the earth and we’d all tumble in lost in dirt

our hands are mist separating the night and seas