{ someone turn the volume down }
A somber tone...
Don't want to explain, our children, why they lack
I tire of pulling the knives off their back...
The vicious truth has now been exposed in the open...
travelling vastly through the great vine...
My tired eyes seek refuge among an abyss of...
My pencil traces the answers but my being is...
I've always felt I was fire.
In certain circumstances I would burn...
Dreams, captured, held
and nursed against the...
When a man standing on soil
With feeble legs wants to go a mile...
hear the duet of
your question and the silence...
I saw the moon,
next to her grave...
I slip out of my shredded skin
in seek of a colorless roof...
Iris pools filled burgundy lips
with bitter taste of summer salt...
Crescent is your laughter
the slit of illumination...