the castle, most watered down, shrieks - its bottom spared the moth of beginnings, it hums an ancient bawl the river, riven in its gutted wear, bends - its weave turned in to speak of beginnings, it gnaws an ancient crawl
Monthly Archives: April 2022
doors that are voices
see me through doors that are voices carrying asphalt when it should be loam - dream me through doors that are voices, silting hue - when will the sun sit with me, remember sunken sky & play with half-lives? see me through lives that are doors that are voices carrying the silt of days, banks that are salt & hue -