yellow moon becomes amber mum becomes question of bridges that go nowhere becomes smell of paper, hot out of the printer becomes something golden that was alive just yesterday but today smells newly, richly dead.
First published in Door is a Jar
shiny things in messy little piles
yellow moon becomes amber mum becomes question of bridges that go nowhere becomes smell of paper, hot out of the printer becomes something golden that was alive just yesterday but today smells newly, richly dead.
First published in Door is a Jar