i hear you
crying
in the other
room.
your
voice a
flock of
scattered
birds
on the phone.
black wings
on
soft air.
nothing prepares
you for
death, your
own, perhaps
the easiest
to digest.
crying
in the other
room.
your
voice a
flock of
scattered
birds
on the phone.
black wings
on
soft air.
nothing prepares
you for
death, your
own, perhaps
the easiest
to digest.
2 comments:
your
voice a
flock of
scattered
birds
on the phone.
black wings
on
soft air.
When I read stuff like this on your post, I am once again convinced that it is only a matter of time until you are discovered. That is magical.
your
voice a
flock of
scattered
birds
on the phone.
black wings
on
soft air.
When I read stuff like that I know it is only a matter of time before you are discovered.
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