my hours grow by the sea
fetal harvests, debris of the shore.
they bear me nothing,
i do not want them anymore.
plucked from the root,
the moon purrs and the waves coil
necks stretched, bobbing
they grow longer and longer.
they do not know how to swim.
paperweight of thought floats,
sanguine languor
languid stings
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 6:42 PM UTC
my hours grow by the sea
fetal harvests, debris of the shore.
they bear me nothing,
i do not want them anymore.
plucked from the root,
the moon purrs and the waves coil
necks stretched, bobbing
they grow longer and longer.
they do not know how to swim.
paperweight of thought floats,
sanguine languor
languid stings
2019 april