a cloudless night, freed from stars or constellations in the way
inciting and inviting me to lay my hands down
upon my lurching, I could count every shade of grey
because I am freed and in my freedom, I will drown
glances fighting to sound
(a waistline of nothing
a dream of sommer truth
a crest of an ocean wave
seven feet of soil, and the water in it)
is everything our fate isn't about
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 1:11 PM UTC
a cloudless night, freed from stars or constellations in the way
inciting and inviting me to lay my hands down
upon my lurching, I could count every shade of grey
because I am freed and in my freedom, I will drown
glances fighting to sound
(a waistline of nothing
a dream of sommer truth
a crest of an ocean wave
seven feet of soil, and the water in it)
is everything our fate isn't about
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