September 5, 2021 · 1 min read
Penumbra of faces
Flaws carried us away-in the broad daylight-
the time has their time too;and the rotten (and sick too) flowers
dangled low beneath the overgrown vest
we all sway ourselves away
drawing out from drops to drops across worn road
and the melancholic woads
too they 're faced down
like a stairway that does not rise.
calmly we walk down the lonely space of time,
each minute bursting into its avid rush, that reeling blaze-
no more, no more