My heart’s voice cries in the sand,
oceans of mourning lost in the dry,
lying, not listening, not understanding,
as my end fire burns in the western sky,
perpetually and always ahead of me, waiting
for the last grain to pour from my side.
The Dry
Comments
4 responses to “The Dry”
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Nice 👌
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Appreciate.
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Okay Jonathan, I see you. Love this.
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Great post.
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