antantantantant

Just when I think I can’t keep imagining your ghost

Chopping the chopped wood smoke

The old man asks if I want another beating sun

Bloodshot eyes blinking stars across every inch

A song I don’t remember your name

Unable to hear the newborn screams of an illegal war

my pronoun

is “fuck your

guns”

my whole

body is a

spiritual facility

the game

sounds closer

tonight

9/19/19