I know what it’s like
carrying a shell
not empty
but lashed together
to last another season
rusty nails poking at empty signage
wavering cobwebs
grasping onto moving, living breezes
relieved at nightfall
away from harsh eyes
solace from pinprick voices
left with bits of broken iron heritage
fading into dust of uncharted roads

I’ve got such a taste
for letters and pens and smudges
even your clipped tone
sends thrills
in places not touched before
drawn to the flourish you exude
reading you fills a gap I hadn’t noticed
even between lines of fury
and desperate pleas
I’ve tasted sweetness and was answered

sited oasis
shelved mirages
crescent bite marks
modeled after the moon

towering quiet
soft stretches
soothing brush strokes
savoring the lush light