Aug 2014
Lidless wreath
Blind me with your teeth
Bone white, chalk lines; bitter retreat
I’ll sing through the embers
Of our charred reverie
A brick & mortar apartment
Holding three dead children
We flee.
Blind me with your teeth
Bone white, chalk lines; bitter retreat
I’ll sing through the embers
Of our charred reverie
A brick & mortar apartment
Holding three dead children
We flee.
3:43am, August 19th 2014
Dead things. Or maybe things that never existed.
Dead things. Or maybe things that never existed.
