Who is that man
below the blood red light
He is sat still
as a hook-billed kite
and why am I here
on a star-stripped night
I swear to have seen
a door out of sight
I swear I was holding
a match to ignite
I swear he just grew
a head length of height
I swear he was there
below the blood red light
About the Creator
Emily Adams
Poet, essayist, photographer, and animal rights activist. I write about ethics, parenthood, and the strange, beautiful experience of being alive.
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