A Valley, Somehow, A Kind of Cup
footbridge and
bats feasting
Shiva
in his halo
of night bugs
and sodium light
a small river slides sideways into a bigger one
bats feasting
Shiva
in his halo
of night bugs
and sodium light
a small river slides sideways into a bigger one
late peaches and no moon, long pulls
on green bottles
on cups of grief
how did our skin feel against that hot dark
how did we manage breath
at all
what kind of poem will this be
on green bottles
on cups of grief
how did our skin feel against that hot dark
how did we manage breath
at all
what kind of poem will this be
when we have forgotten what we were?
