Monday, January 1, 2024

SILAS

little worm little love twisted and squinted eyes closed like wait, figure out this, figure this out, be good enough world, for me, be the rumors true, wet bark smell, powdered-sugar-butter scraps crumbed clean, fresh mopped floor gleaming ballroom wheat, some stolen sleep, bless yourself worthy, 
these glacial eyes open. 


3 comments:

  1. feels like i'm going between the internal and external rapidly with all these evocative phrases

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  2. feel this so viscerally, a prayer

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