a descent into poetry insanity |
| we see the year first. it rises over the ocean, and passes the line that turns today into tomorrow— a crooked line tearing the Pacific in two, like a child with scissors. we see the new year, as the ground shifts beneath our feet, dissolving. soon, all that’s left of our land will be salt water and drowning. then, where will the new year come? Author's Note ▶︎ |