There are dances we
choose to forgo.
Below the circumference.
A bleeding limb.
Never ending now,
or ever shimmering.
In the minds eye.
Frozen in bright headlights.
November 23, 2020
There are dances we
choose to forgo.
Below the circumference.
A bleeding limb.
Never ending now,
or ever shimmering.
In the minds eye.
Frozen in bright headlights.
Leave a Reply