Fatara

Today blew apart
and burnt me up,
reading what I can bare. In [[truth]],
[[be]]ing [[read]] by what comes before
creation and its [[blue]] crack;
what waits after
and asks us only to [[remember]].

Three [[simple]] letters
to reveal the whole show
and me, hooked on a feeling
that seems to be on repeat
in the background, being
made to [[witness]]
an unemployment form
and rejoice this chance
to work on only one
more return.


Traces

  • Hooked