cross our hands and pray to
the middle of our days;
ice storm eyes and
sunset breathing.
clutched fists fostering
naked beliefs in rivers
flavored with
rainbow pain
open heart
close fists
i am me in all forms
of mortar brick
and rotating
skins.
Friday, 7 December 2018
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...
