wind – other animals

I cough and February again

a joke the smirking wind might make to

Enkidu in the land of shadow

but this even older

chair a little dog

sharing some warmth

something other

than dust

falls from

my mouth

sound of rain
seeds
the wind
in
my throat
closes at dusk

already past as long as you can stay undecided about how to walk on the shards of this mirror after months of wind whipping the whys of juvenilia

to eat but winter wind. The bloody stone by the turn

after learning to teleport October wind the empty

grit in the wind all my abandoned blogs

snowflakes in the wind’s groan swallow pills one by one

the ice wind inside. Having written the date I force myself

which keeps its distance in service to a slowly unfolding melody that the sweetness of late fruit seems to say even this wind not like the wind when