Friday, September 4, 2020

Dependency

I will be a layer of dust
when you are that thing
that sounds the alarm
I will return to you
like light evening
a shadow in 
a way that can
be beheld
fill it with tears
with the reality 
of language
from the speaker
who is now speaking
and the lady
who is now
wiping the floor
with his words.


No comments:

Speaking

  How one returns from heaven or honey   It’s pains how sticky   the farmer, driving his empty   truck through the beautiful  maples of spri...