in my dreams i never wake up before i hit the ground. i always hit the ground and then see myself through until after the autopsy. odd.

poetry

visions of clean pillows
stacked behind me so should
i fall
it arches perfectly back
spine, shoulders, neck, and head
to the soft landing
my dreams keep leaving out

the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother's poetry blog.

landing

in my dreams i never wake up before i hit the ground. i always hit the ground and then see myself through until after the autopsy. odd.