Lost in the lot
with your view of peril
and iris aflame
we both can smell
ramifications of braided
hands of us and them
ahead waits the cascade
choking off our torch
the in and out of our lot
now ocean over flames.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/297346958-288-k459698.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
extract | torn lines of mine (working title)
Poetryextract | torn lines of mine (working title)