Content warning: Poem, Humans, Endings
Wealth In Empty
January 20, 2023
humans, one gestures
soft fingers gone bone
dreaming under stone
we of tired mastery say
they seem predisposed
to immolation, to strangenesses
holding their moth attentions
yelling world end a coming
while all the while
they end it
one slow breath
lost in season smoke
* * *
from Wetdryvac https://ift.tt/DvZ4Tf3
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