I am the fallen.
The runaway son, born and reborn through transpiring muck.
Crossing; the wide distances, currency. A dissonance
This does not go easy on anyone persuaded that they
themselves are listening.
I am an assassin familiar; wanting to break your memory
of the balance of secrets.
The ransom unpaid by forged documents.
Let alone sheaves of thought stacked against the
moonlight of your staring heart.
latest e-books $5.99, https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBJTJFP Shadow Boxing The Infinite
*****https://https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBDFWGB Phantoms Of The Northern Forests*****
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0917TF1K9 Steel Butterflies
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08ZJLWZ13 The New Poetry Hotel
©All Rights Reserved