Abora

marble garages worn by feet in zen

 

12/27/18 9:13PM

 

if i could walk back every

crumbling path and dilapidated speech

i ever trod on

i would have never moved once

 

i smash my rock into pieces

and still grasp at gravel

porous, miserable slough

that i line filters with

 

and i can’t even write 

like i used to, when it was all flowery

but still scented like shit

now this skin mottles into 

jagged peaks, wilderness

expression in stone

 

they call it a thousand yard stare

but i usually see further

you can see the horizon

right out on the lake

 

i blamed lithe and dour serpents

for this original guilt

but i think it goes deeper

now that i’m on the emerald isle

 

every morning tastes like blood

and shredded feet

Comments1

  • Neville

    I wish I knew why I like these words so much.. I now have a life time left to ponder and seek the truth...

    • Abora

      glad that the words found you. thanks for reading

      • Neville

        my pleasure...



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