it's your light that sits silently on my ebb with a swampy eye to observe. Your branches of a season, swaying. hushing. it's your lips on mine, erratic convulsions, blue is my eye. blue is my love. Doused, my body in lipids. Scattered, collected, yours.
I did not feel like writing today as I am annoyed and a lot more but was happy to see my poem published in Visual Verse for the month of January. The collection is freaking awesome, not even kidding.
If you want you might check my work here. It’s not that bad I guess.