Aug 29, 2017 · 1 min read
(Quivering Light Unsettled)

— itchy skin, stone and rusty, hangs from heaven like sickle
tongue of mud and something musty, the dreams from pain do trickle
Hang me up to show bankruptcy, dry me out like weed
Shove that oar to push me up sea, that i might end my bleed
paddle to the ocean, they said when i was small, paddle like you mean it they echoed
that i could tread such water at all, shocks the souls those tides have speckled
Proclaim me burlap, weep my days, pretend i’ve gone deep river
— but’when you di’still my quaking frame, i pray you’ll feel that shiver

