forest (Remove filter)
angels don't blink (03/05/2025)
we invented angels .
beneath the brawn of skin
the pock of age
spinning sweat for escape
a purpose for craned necks
and volume for books
we needed a shape for hope.
indescernable from our fevered tongues
to spill us from these iron lungs
compressants quenched
and lift toward the spiraling smoke
the ecstacy of backroom chatter
of porch-lit memory
we invented angels.
...Wednesday 5th March 2025 2:24 pm
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