Once I had a morbid/infatuation
with the shape of the sky
at the end_of the world

Where all my mirrors reflected
cinders and pipe bombs
bludgeons and rabid dogs
unsolved murder cases
& plenty of missing

Now that the nights run early on
and by five o’clock it’s black
I can’t pretend with you
I’ve gotta say
it’s creeping. . back;


8 thoughts on “Eschatology

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