IV.
the sky goes up in flames.
fire may give off heat but i feel an absense of warmth in my bones.
we watch as the painter of the universe coats the world in black.
the stars do not come out.
A
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fifteen (XV)
Poetryi prick my finger on a rose in my garden. my blood is not red. i take the wind caressing my face as a silent apology. cover art made by doradorapuff on tumblr. [2015] thank you to everyone who shared with me these short poems as they were published...
