I can only stand so much deaththat tearing out of the throat of the universehanding organs over…
In the bright conjure of the morn,it is a wonderment to my pupil where people wander,undoing societal structures simply by standing…
Tossed all nighton oceans of memory,deep surges from ancient history disrupting the quietude of sleep.
As light taps you so very gently on the lids of your eyesAnd the early morning collectiveof nature’s voices…