1.
moonset and sunrise:
the morning cut-like
down the middle, torn
the way seasons in transition
tear apart tired blankets
4.
the river is glass and silk
I dream of mountains
5.
I don’t recognize my reflection
in that certain light
1.
moonset and sunrise:
the morning cut-like
down the middle, torn
the way seasons in transition
tear apart tired blankets
4.
the river is glass and silk
I dream of mountains
5.
I don’t recognize my reflection
in that certain light