Apr 2019
Your
voice
combs
the
blue
of my
blood -
you're
so deep
I hear
you
even
above
the
knocking
gray
of work.
Your
voice
flares
in me,
a beacon
to
something
that
swallowed
400
blazing,
aching
pages,
& still
is
ravenous.
voice
combs
the
blue
of my
blood -
you're
so deep
I hear
you
even
above
the
knocking
gray
of work.
Your
voice
flares
in me,
a beacon
to
something
that
swallowed
400
blazing,
aching
pages,
& still
is
ravenous.
