We are as soundless as monoliths.Even dogs that chase us to Hell
do not realize we are groping the dead.
Ripe, fallen angels,
half ravished, half numb,
our own ravaged wings are more corporeal
than poetic.
Shed one step over devoured,
the impact, dissolution, and rebirth dismantle us.
We are animals in the place of gods.
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2 comments:
I really like this, it really beautiful
I really appreciate that. Thanks.
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