02-18-2014, 01:57 PM
the unborn witness of birth and death.
The surface of my breath is separated into boxes: souls growing, slow,
And in my shadow-stuffed hollows, I swallow my souls alone.
Inside, they know,
I am the one who loves them so.
The surface of my breath is separated into boxes: souls growing, slow,
And in my shadow-stuffed hollows, I swallow my souls alone.
Inside, they know,
I am the one who loves them so.