Brush
strokes fading
Down
my backs’ change.
I
cannot force us backwards
Rather,
I will summon our art
Into
the fine lines of our lives.
Crafting
my neck around
Your
black tones;
I
am complete.
invisible lined protection
after, life. there was a pause and we ended our grass-grown eyebrows and curled up against our dreaming eyes. this is where i leave you, and...
