I dream about the ice,
I miss its tongue
hanging over the precipe,
sheets breaking & sliding,
crashing over the moraine
to crack,
smash itself
into oblivion,
tiny chunks of glass.
And sadly,
nothing here,
not a ****** thing
in this temporal
techno-world
will suffice.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
I dream about the ice,
I miss its tongue
hanging over the precipe,
sheets breaking & sliding,
crashing over the moraine
to crack,
smash itself
into oblivion,
tiny chunks of glass.
And sadly,
nothing here,
not a ****** thing
in this temporal
techno-world
will suffice.
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