(Untitled)

[fuckatharsis]

While the grass’ grapple tightened,
As did the sky stained clothes upon my hips,
And rendered I to rapture,
Because lightning pulsed in my veins
And water finally poured through cheeked trench,

Comments

[papavic]

impressive; you remind me of me when I was a young poet (but I did not develop a poetic voice this mature until a decade later)

[papavic]

and have I told you how hungry you make my cameras?