Series Info | Table of Contents

feeling the bones,

the scaffold underneath

goes beyond support for flesh,

a frame to hang memories

     shaking cells can hold things,

     our fading warmth speaks,

     we are fleeting exchange

in the flat sun of late winter

wind looks to knock free hope

slipping endless unseen fingers between us

as if our time wasn’t short enough already


Please subscribe to keep reading.

Table of Contents

Series Info