moon-ghosts and iron roads,
the night is full of white bones,
skulls in my jacket,
the horizon scurries to
free itself drawing in
its breath,
there is nothing earthly here
no love, no bird knotting the sky with its wings.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
moon-ghosts and iron roads,
the night is full of white bones,
skulls in my jacket,
the horizon scurries to
free itself drawing in
its breath,
there is nothing earthly here
no love, no bird knotting the sky with its wings.
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