days for the living [fragment]


the descent of dreams rolls downwards like skulls,
all those flower-tucked eyes & neon day-glo smiles.
there is a day for the dead but no day for the living
unless all days are days for the living, the sheer
amount of days rendering them all worthless.

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the reflection of the moon in water


i thought i saw a light where the land meets the sea
a signal that you were coming back to me
i’m staring down the ocean like i could make it recede
and go back to where it was birthed from a trembling seed
all rivers leading to one place: my heart, of course
and drowning is just a return to the source
and even the moon has to let go sometimes
when the water rushes in at the shoreline
to comfort me where i am buried up to my neck
waiting for you to come back from the wreck.