Tuesday, June 18, 2024

Your Surprise

Blankets wrapped around my ankles, shackled in warmth 

Hankering for the slow-cooked meals of home

while under a muddy tarp


Thickened ground from rain that will not stop, coming

Sunshine is light years away sweet nothings

whisper to me silent


Famine is my friend, spook me sudden

Dreams of graveyard ghosts with sunset eyes

Dripping honey to the beehive mountain

I've dropped my gun and fell for 

your surprise



Featured Post

No More Masters

The bones are really breaking inside of me and I have no one left to conceive of no imagination to dry up no silence to feign I have no fore...