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hannah-franke
Whisper
American
Poems
4
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Surveillance
Where are the prisoners? / Where are the guards? / Watching. Ever watching.
27
2k
Decay
How long did you lie there? / Crumpled like discarded waste / Slowly decaying into ash, so
31
1.1k
The Paradox of Battle
Spears aviate above our gaze. / Souls begin to depart / Encompassing our moment,
38
844
Muse
My torturous fate solely seduces. / Muse, but never mate. / Dragged ashore, escaped from destiny,
24
657
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