I am shards that are split into notes. Silver sleeps beneath the monochrome.
Softly borne of threaded bones, my memory unveils un-truth.
I am streams that converge into a song. Fire wakes beneath the monochrome.
Violently borne of forgotten homes, my franticness upends the earth.
I am fields that run into a home. Silence waits inside the monochrome.Back to Poems