fragments

years lost like marbles sing a long sonata of the dead

poetic burrowing like an animal preparing for winter but when will I dig myself out

sorrow and feeling pass into a foreign tongue you invent so as to remain blameless if nobody reads it an unbroken chain of dawns rattles in the skull another one’s coming

torn apart in order to get at the things or the nothingness behind it

here it’s white mouth opens