Dear Smoke
November 17, 2024
You make the sky bleed orange instead, strangle the clouds till they’re tinged red, till nature itself is singed and...
I can’t hear the ocean’s cries…
November 17, 2024
And so I wonder how it must feel to be the ocean, to hold so much life yet be treated...
as above, so below
November 17, 2024
as above, so below (1) the sun swells above like a stye-eye. there are holes in the sky, leaking starlight....
