grief is a giraffe who
glides among the grove in a gangly
and gentle gloom, gnawing
leaves, stripping uppermost
green with its greedy lips
its black tongue
through the gaping all
good goes, longing
clinging to
margins in sluggish ghost
everything weighs, nothing aggregates
agony is a gift the galaxy is
divulged in that
gap—gutted
glistened
“through the gaping all
good goes, longing
clinging to
margins in sluggish ghost
everything weighs, nothing aggregates
agony is a gift”
super oof
Yes! What wonderful sonics.
Wow – this one really got me!