buried alive [the creeping closing distance]

panicked i

feel the sand up over my chin filling
   my mouth gritty sand pressing my cheeks
         and tears
                        spring instinctively with the sand’s
                                                        creeping
                                                           closing
                                                            distance

body cold while the crown singes and the end of the world bird circles

Published by presssendpoetry

Author and editor for Press Send Poetry. Marketing for Barcoding, Inc. #Baltimore #Poet

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