A cessation, the best
of black, having overslept
the eye of the needle...
some midnight sun
flung to shield this perpetual
wakefulness, becoming it the
more.
Ascents and views, sound
barriers broken...ice cold stars,
white winds of burnt cores.
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
A cessation, the best
of black, having overslept
the eye of the needle...
some midnight sun
flung to shield this perpetual
wakefulness, becoming it the
more.
Ascents and views, sound
barriers broken...ice cold stars,
white winds of burnt cores.
