shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Barbara Hughes

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Insomnia Song

feral wind whipping my hair
let's swim in the unseen sky
through seepy stuff that is sticky

I search for god but the moon is done

into the evening and in these spaces
moving like lifeless chess pieces
the Pawn holds me delicately
more than I ever held myself

but the truth I don't want
the why of what I wonder is you
let's rise before the moon falls

all this breaks so easily
from birth to death
and back