Windows unencumbered by the passing
moon near perfection never reached
stir shadows, all their colours leached
as the tide sits patient, pillaging
these salt and pepper cloth-bound skies,
sipping on night’s silent feast.
Windows unencumbered by the passing
moon near perfection never reached
stir shadows, all their colours leached
as the tide sits patient, pillaging
these salt and pepper cloth-bound skies,
sipping on night’s silent feast.
