the breaks

©2023 michael raven

as simple as that
i cut crimson cords
composing guard rails
reach out into the
air and
      tumble ass
           over teakettle
 nothing left to prove
runes strewn to four
corners & blackthorn
       septic underskin
underhill where
spectres roam still
       aghast at my
audacity, howling,

nothing special again
we gather around
        peat bonefires &
chit-chatter under a
pale winter moon
humming songs
rediscovered in back
               pockets all
until the sun rises
tall in the sky anew

2 thoughts on “the breaks

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