photo credit: (Emilia Thomas Photography)
Like a rising geyser
Her indicative laughter builds inside
My chest;
A pealing drove of notes wrapped
In aching resonation
//
When the ground thirsts,
I will go like a mayfly;
I will age and die on this moaning mass
Of ancient earth
Despite inertia, I will roll
Beyond the gap - a bead of wax down candle's shaft -
And by the blood, to dust
Return
//
