
Emily Misura
Солярис
in the shade
hands wait
for their counterparts
until the glorious
solaris twists through
shuttered blinds
in the shade
hands wait
for their counterparts
until the glorious
solaris twists through
shuttered blinds
a fluorescent full moon guided {us} quilted moths. gravel crunched, nails clicked. where the wall meets the sidewalk leaked the giggle of a shared secret. we've encrypted these moments like the finger
a quip - the last of the rarest jokes on earth like snowfall > April showers - befell. We shared this moment the way two people watch a performance of King Lear.
it's a hard thing, this lucid living: sitting on a donated couch in an already-sold house with someone whose grave I had just visited. "but I've been to your grave," the words unspun from tangled teet