Steven Cline

05/14/21cosmic fires burnbehind the rich, black fabric of the nightwhich parts to let the magic passas particles of filtered lightthe door lies open, the gate lies closedlife travels, small and swiftthrough tiny tearsa missing stitchand life. the flow itselfthe tear itselfthe seama sight of seeming deaththat folds, unfolds itselfin weeds of griefand swaddles itselfand for […]