ligature and commence
ballast or last dance
my own, my little, hand
corrupts the air I walk in again.
even the head is imperfect
keeps “no time.” not the way
ice melts or jutting outward
the dim profile of you
are my horizon.
ligature and commence
ballast or last dance
my own, my little, hand
corrupts the air I walk in again.
even the head is imperfect
keeps “no time.” not the way
ice melts or jutting outward
the dim profile of you
are my horizon.