hours end with
chunks swallowed
polite surfeit
of gorged anger
em and tony empathy
now flaccid
leaves rusted in gutters and offices
of damp guilt
salted
will keep
Alta Ifland, Voix de Glace / Voice of Ice
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*My language*
My language lies buried in the center of the earth. When night comes,
dreams open time’s gates at the black ravens with rustling wings t...
1 day ago
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