"further down the bookshelf aisle"
Further down, the air tilts —
cedar and something sharper,
like paper just torn.
The books lean as if listening,
their shadows knotting
in the seams between boards.
A single bulb flickers,
its light breaking into shards
that glance off a cover
furred with years of quiet.
I keep walking,
and the silence keeps pace,
as if it has business here too.
.
I think the permeating
I think the permeating poignant imagery is what shines here like 'light breaking into shards' and so many layers to explore, though a disturbingly disquieted child whose hips are crippled and stinted, glasses thick, virgin curtsy, utilizing the crutches as a wizarding stick.
peace, pot, tequila shot
Jesus loves us, stoned or not
Sounds somewhat familiar of a
Sounds somewhat familiar of a younger self that has now been overgrown by years and layers of dust.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver