This absence continues; lingering
On my salted tongue. My empty knocks echo farther
Than I even stayed to watch. Refurbish me.
Love, how long have we waited? A dozen egg cartons
Smashed before their glass eyes as we just
Persist on. They move and another clicks.
Form.
We just seem to ache as we watch the
Candles burn low. Watch me handle…
Guzzle down the water spicket. May we drown in
Our own resurgence. Sniffing the air, we find
A spice we’ve never experienced before.
Your hand; ashes. Your ears; burns. |
Submission Name: Form.
