Bolted digits, rootbound to acrid heavens,

ostrichly I swallow sand, begging the heaviness

to parch my flaming veins and ceaselessly flowing sorrows.



Sparrow’s fleeting raison d'être, sipping eyes of iceberg hue,

quenching mine own of verdant leaf; long-awaited view

to fill my soul’s windows’ empty absinthe pools.



No somber adieus, simply one smile of lightning.

His passing thunder will resound beneath my ribs

from the arrows of his glacial spheres

forevermore.