undulating lights cling to this trail's wood, as cedars blow a scent like sawdust with muggy blur my eyes widen with silhouette orange,
By Cory Buchanan3 years ago in Poets
where the stars flicker I heard there was debris sent from thousands of lightyears away flying a split second into their light
(saturated) in this barren past, no air sinks by me to breathe; slamming into sunken fantasies (blinking unrushed) to this
purple wet weather collapses, yellow dusts fume off of stems, quenching this blaring field. slow clouds, or rosé volcano sky
a river flies swiftly off my eyes but I'm here and the wind is humid all I see is the waterfall off rocks my river is constant
I run to these slow-fell forests, stalling along the pink maples, lit like sunsets whirling manitoba paused so delicately, along