Viral Dailies, Day 21
We push out, breath from blue,
like the breaking waves, alone with their thoughts,
and catch ourselves among the reeds.
Passing alone through districts of enchanting knowledge,
we cough up our meal of bones, still hungry to drown
inside a conundrum bigger than our shoes.
Our little oceans, best of our times, rimmed ‘round
with shortening days, the noose of our shrinking
humanity; allure, the currency of dreams.
Still, one swims in what one drinks and drinks
what washes down and around all that looks
for more horizon. Let the four-quartered moon
sing what is only heard when deafness prevails.
The tragedy of the good, the irony of evil, foisted
upon hearts ill-suited for the journey in.
So it seems that the only way to bleed to life
is in the unmooring of our punctured ships.
There is more room to bleed when splintered…
View original post 37 more words