15. Halo Smoke (Ivory)

A corrosion city crept in caucasian cracks,
Axis bends, the world tips into a gut of acidic bile,
It's what he spat out after digesting the halo of our heads.

Our hearts create an atom.

Form a string of licorice to hold us within.
There are stars without us, and stars with you,
But the shadow with the halo bled into me.

The End

77 comments about this poem Feed