I'm praying for a day
when I can breathe in the black and white solace
of a scratchy, blurry landscape devoid of streetlights.
My eyes, filled with pollen,
are closing on the shadow of an arm casted out further than my reach,
towards a hawk's silhouette amongst the limbs of a dying birch.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
I'm praying for a day
when I can breathe in the black and white solace
of a scratchy, blurry landscape devoid of streetlights.
My eyes, filled with pollen,
are closing on the shadow of an arm casted out further than my reach,
towards a hawk's silhouette amongst the limbs of a dying birch.
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