Jaunty

how many years bloomed how many smiles floating like voices, full of shit, rushing like rivers into sunken sleep of days rhyming like the tired beginnings of concrete wisdoms flowing in and out of your chest like parasites all giving way to something, anything, this a dance and not a departure, you hosting dust in your hands because you’re afraid and then you levitating in love through mist and you taking a scalpel to your brain and in that moment feeling it all, every silly and serious splinter of the mind, every glowing truth in front of death, every admission of laughter "Jaunty" - September 2022. Created by William M. Peaster.