©2021 Michael Raven
digging dirt
for
low places
to find
those hearts
beating
underground
shamanic word nomad
Bit sized. Tastes like spoiled almonds.
©2021 Michael Raven
digging dirt
for
low places
to find
those hearts
beating
underground
©2021 Michael Raven
blood flows thick through words, steel copper tongue & violent you
©2021 Michael Raven
ribs pierced
my blood
washes weregild
earth clean
in the ash's
shadow
©2021 Michael Raven
it seems only right
flesh should mirror
my putrified soul
©2021 Michael Raven
i should burn away
like morning fog
as if never here
©2021 Michael Raven
wrapping shadowcloak
tugging the fringe
hole singularity home
©2021 Michael Raven
my cheek resting
on naked thigh
you twirl my hair
around a finger tip
again again again
©2021 Michael Raven
waving a burning stick of sage i invite those who overstayed to leave & new spirits to come and stay
©2021 Michael Raven
crows on high wires laugh at distinctions cityscape? natureside? waiting for roadkill meals
©2021 Michael Raven
i can be free
once i find the will
to cast of the shackles
with which
the world binds me
Silly man. The shackles were provided and placed by you…