Fairness to the Fiend
I brushed up against the lake
in blossoming lights
the moon and skyscrapers
cold gusts swelling by
in shattered mirror waves
a rolling current played
tattered wisps of beauty
made my hungers fade
this costly process is not lossless
and sticky thoughts rip through
-------each time they tear
I fade with them
I hate this time of year
No comments:
Post a Comment