Thursday, March 9, 2017

Strings Of Desire

I wrote my poem and said my bit there was lots of backfire burning down torches I kept lighting and letting the wind get to them those Ravens they all call crows went back up to their nests their roosts and I held onto an egg I cracked it open one hand like I had been reading about a heavy stone from the Columbia now where I can get to it real quick the pocket of my vest so surprising that picture of the light strings weaving electricity into the sky

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