i wear waxen wings, too.
like you,i was the sun-chaser.
we blot the skylike inky crows.
the wind forebodes:“not all that shinesis gold.”
dear Icarus —
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How do you livein a broken world?Do you step over the shards on the sidewalkand pretend not to hearthe crunch of glassbeneath your feet?
softened are the sharp and bitter stones thatcut like glass as people walked upon me —
a shifting of sands.
sink into me like a riverbed andi will lull…
i harbored thoughts of youfor months.they surfaced gently, golden apples bobbing in the lukewarm waters of mylucid dreams
when i kiss you i taste the thawing ofbleeding…
most days,i pretendi’m on a beach in spain,drinking wine until my skin feelsso dry you couldlight a fire on it.
sometimes i crysometimes i step out on my balcony and yell at the orange tree for beingso beautiful, so unaware
i write long…
Published in Chalkboard
over time, my hands grew heavytending to the roots of treesthat bore no seed,no leaves, no fruit.
so i turned into the desert,scorching and unscalable,stretched thin like…
I write poems. Sometimes longer stories. I wrote a book, you can read that, too. https://tinyurl.com/man-made-hunter
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