The Earth is a Frying Pan
I am a cosmic egg
By Kaia RaePublished 4 years ago • Updated 3 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Louis Maniquet on Unsplash
The elements speak
louder to the destitute
with their thin barriers.
Air is a carrier,
howls through cracks in the window—
shakes structures.
Fire needs fuel to grow,
the city lights are always on.
The Sun: a miracle.
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