secondary but flowing
endlessly through ripped out seeds
that gained soil weight on the
way to their death. supple necks
surrounded by new air
and broken glasses;
eyes that no longer carry
water.
that was magic,
so,
i still can fly.
blushing old bride
came for the nearing heights to wait on the toe of our left cornered kiss; remember the suction of our peace? how often does it forget? I a...
