the earth is so cold,
you can feel the frost traveling upwards
through the soil and to the rigid blades of grass
slicing at my ankles,
dew mixed with blood
the moonlight shines down
hard to believe it’s night
my father used to pick his teeth with a knife at the dinner table
i remember watching him do it
the sharp edge of a blade dancing around soft gum
what for?
sweet menthol is the heir of death
i tried it once just to see what it’d feel like
it kind of grips around the gums in a similar fashion
and just dissipates into thin air
the sun is so warm,
you can feel the rays brushing off the branches
trees basking and dancing
hard not to live in the moment
hard not to live at all
t
sometimes writing 