Mobius Meeks

These ardors paddle

with streamers.

Horrors, silver and dark.

A slow down

for every sound.

Where shimmers

play in winds

crossing violet peaks.

Wild and dredge

from any edge —

feeds the birds

airs the dead

climbing up inside my head.

Wavers wills and weeps.

Finders stay for minders

delusions play for keeps.

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1 Comment

  1. wigs and digsFebruary 7, 2021

    Relative to thinness on the ground.

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