Sunday, July 22, 2018

The Ribbed Morning

swept away deja vu
in the comatose dream
the erotic road waxes
to nothingness

I dream alone
in sweet and sour
starlight
chickens fall on the road

peaks vanish
and the road erupts
in slivers
dreaming in deja vu,

I am the ribbed morning
the one that ebbs at
the haloed moon.

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