acid rain drop tear
eye field of grain
gypsy cloth for burial
standing we don’t stop
just beyond the starline
shelter roof of water
floor of heaven hell
grew cold of waiting
ulcer in the chiding
mouth of goddess in
between the deaths of
lives less killed our
candied bitterness let’s build
a temple maybe five
before the swallows fly
back stoned to nests
tipping over ashes was
the flowers of my
bed in hair graying
words less spoken 
❤️️
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There is something languid here, G. Something hypnotic. It feels like one of those pieces that comes, with waking, almost fully formed. Tell me, though, that you worked hard at it; make me feel better! Thanks for sharing xo
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9 minutes Master Reeves photo about 4 with beatification I was in a mood fanks much 🙂 xoxoxo
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well, that’s the good stuff, g xo
ps: nice photo:)
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thanks MR xoxo
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