the moths whisper

and my life is now made up

of seconds

the pendulum swings

becoming three shades of white

there's a ladder at the edge of the world

suspended

sometimes i wonder what

happens between the

silences

the sound of footsteps die

like everything

but death

a shallow breath is drawn

white noise

time passes

like an antique paper weight

and

it will show you hidden realities

the dark doves fly

and then they scatter

in the wild quiet

is our last salvage of sympathy

embers dance and fade

bright in the sky

falling to the

wet earth on the

wind is just imaginings within other

imaginings

and

it will become honesty

against silver

shadow folding into

hollow shadow to create the

sunlit grey is all i

see where forever ends and

feels like falling

to

iridescent dreams of stories

woven into

the skin of lives that

in dust in

bright darkness in

the sky underneath the

sea of glass

where

ashes fill the sky and

the flowers are the sound of silence

the flowers are the sound

the flowers are

the flowers are

the flowers

Rain falls.

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