Monday, 15 February 2016

loud skin

we are loud and indispensable
we are air of breaths taken
last and water that rain did not
hug while coming down. serpents
of indigo hues manifest our errections
and our posture is now complete.   


this will be my last poem

so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...