scent of ripe apples when I would practice how to fly
Tag Archives: fly
splinter
all day I thought I was some other day the ink seeped out starting with what in your chest before you can fly 1,000 years
to own this land. The kite I fly with knives
the mandala in your mind. The soft landing of a fly in
resident devil shrink pixel-small fly out with this breath
Friday evening showing the fly another way
light snow on thin branches I catch and release the fly
a winter fly bangs the ceiling thin groundhog soup
the winter fly bouncing on the ceiling doesn’t want my help
—
the sound of distant cars my cereal loses its crunch