The Moya View

The Thing Is

The Thing Is

Burnt paper collapsing  in my hands.
The silt grating my throat in
air thick and wet enough for gills,

My face held in my palms—
tears adding weight,    
pulling me down.  

Esto si que es.

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JONATHAN MOYA

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One response to “The Thing Is”

  1. joyindestructible Avatar
    joyindestructible

    A predestined serendipity…that moment when we catch a true reflection of ourselves in the mirror of dark or light things…my first thought, the sediments that lie at the bottom of deep, deceptively still water.

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