The dead lie organized about me, most of them forgotten by those who carry their blood now.
A warm fog has settled itself in. Like an old friend you've lost interest in catching up with.
If it weren't for a squirrel running across the flat markers, you'd think time paused life to take a leak.
The rain moved out overnight. As if she were looking to escape the ire of an abusive moon.
I long to be trapped here, in this moment, like a dried up leaf caught in a whirlpool.
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 2:59 PM UTC
The dead lie organized about me, most of them forgotten by those who carry their blood now.
A warm fog has settled itself in. Like an old friend you've lost interest in catching up with.
If it weren't for a squirrel running across the flat markers, you'd think time paused life to take a leak.
The rain moved out overnight. As if she were looking to escape the ire of an abusive moon.
I long to be trapped here, in this moment, like a dried up leaf caught in a whirlpool.