Lifelog
Thirties
Meanwhile, Human
The Hidden Now
#0k
While We Wait For Sunrise
Poetry
Substack
ContacT
i should have held it longer. i should have
seen the moment as a daffodil one cries onto,
dirt one tends to.
perhaps spring will come again
and wither at the sight of me.
𓅪
there’s discomfort in my comfort globe,
patches in unbroken patterns…
don’t i know?
my teller of tales tells tales and i
listen.
majestic globe.
𓅪
no sound louder than the snapping of a bone,
or a wish stuck on the train track home.
𓅪
windows you can’t open from the inside,
but i’ve got sunshine under my fingernails
and time if all else fails.
𓅪
char, from dust to –
i heard your cowboys cry.
but here you lie,
present as a smile born into or invoked.
𓅪
necessity has found me,
now wears me like sheep
and goes: swim, swim, swim,
child,
through shards of glass
and wolf’s blood.
𓅪
i carved a pathway to infinity
in the palm of my hands.
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