Lights bleeding an excuse
An arson to be forgiven
The house is what all that he has
Strictures be kneaded
By skin's soundless sinking
And I smile by August
Because I've got this, don't I?
What absolves most of all
Is the ceiling that we have become—
Gladdening
Cinders we are now
Cinders we are then
YOU ARE READING
all
Poetry2024 poems, again MIR - 20 January 2024 #1 poembook #1 poemcollection #2 imagery
