the wind shreds shards today, by so, so slow -

a seeping ice, near-mooned, now pale and

shroomed, glassy dark outside on stair, cold

steals into doors, unlocked and dryly open,

peals of light in pools of bright, crystal shine

in the eight a.m. wine, do i like that it is mine?

pour a shot into the java, i pray, turn my

red blood to lava all the way. i wish upon

a giant water drop to drown me in this dry

dock, this very waterless place right now

seasofme250616parallaxis