Song of Longing
When reason called us in its pattern We obeyed as if entranced or certain Marched in habit to its power
Tag: elegy
Screaming Softly
Screaming hot like ice in free fall Black jade bubbling up within her guts Limp inertia pressing lips, nose, skin
IC.
Take this oak its broad umbrella green and massive Leaning comfortably upon its nest of feet below Without a care