I fix my eyes on the swarm—black as night,Summer insects gnawing at the edges of my fading profileThe air tastes of rot, thick with whispers and sweat,While the land beneath me swells like a fevered bruise Deep in the ditches… Continue reading

The Southern wind crawls heavyThrough willows knotted with grief,Their limbs dragging the dirt like the dead,Howling low like hell-hounds in the holler,Under a swollen moon, bloated & bruised,Calling your name like a curse whispered too long Why did you leave… Continue reading