I. Twenty-five years.Twenty-five million specks of dust.The flakes of rustblew through plastic and boards:life passed…
Tag: Poetry
The way in…I witnessed myself: Trapped in a year,a model in a bottle,sealed in the…
A porcelain jar of skeleton keys
go to nothing,
lost their use in time.
The red sun rakes the grass, caressing the metal holding the hefty tabletop desk, where…
Cipher Eye Media 