Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash
your face is missing features
once again I call out to you
the foghorn is deep
eternity stretches onwards
your pocket is heavy with stones
sing again like hummingbird wing choir hum
strike deep into me eldritch tormentor
I dance towards you with bare feet
blind eyes open and seeing many
there is no River Styx
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
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