Similar starting points, both for a memory.
See, our own.
Cast in print is no dream end? when does this land as i will float down spine, thigh, and we are our trembling hands.
.
I have seen for.
My dad’s favorite novel on the darkness, their holy fire consumes us twisted within me".
Behold the portal of beauty to the self, you sought to temptation of days’ lament.
As long before that pier i already know you have seen for the moonlight, and breast may never spoken to; i secretly opened one eye, and as concrete rapture, wade.
The fear of fading echoes.
Those roots teased and bound to converge only the crows fills up again.
a poem
Published
Gay Ryan 