Morning Light Lights cresting over water, tortured but not tamed on the waves, find my red eyes. I was only here to wash the fish guts from my hands, not to be banished, kindly. Another world might look and smell like this one, but it wouldn’t have this sunrise.
Poem #180
Poem #180
Poem #180
Morning Light Lights cresting over water, tortured but not tamed on the waves, find my red eyes. I was only here to wash the fish guts from my hands, not to be banished, kindly. Another world might look and smell like this one, but it wouldn’t have this sunrise.