And (Remove filter)
fog III (02/01/2024)
a weighty fog
like tinned milk
sweetly opaque
hiding the feathers and tears
traces of a an empty place called
heaven.
these beads rest on hats
press down on weary brows and
weave between the fibres
of gloves
of family
such a slippery thing, this life.
like a rain you can't catch on your tongue
but the taste weaves between your
thoughtful mol...
Thursday 1st February 2024 5:49 pm
And
It's a concentration of atoms, that in the air converse with one another.
And then those bits become molecules.
They create my table.
My computer.
And in some ways, my ability to type and write and eat ramen at the last hour of the night.
And they make
That smokey woody herbal floating aroma that reminds me of the witchcraft shop down the street of where we used to live.
...
Monday 9th October 2017 7:36 am
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