I don't usually write at midnight, but sometimes I get an idea at three in the morning.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

A Deadstar Fruit: Erasure Poem

Wind blew on the shrinking cities.
Envenomed air snapped wormwound architecture.

A world away,
before the final day,
green desire spun in darkness down.

taken from "Exitus" 
by Joanne de Longchamps

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