untitled (rain drops like first born girls)

the rain forms a veil for
my mourners

even the streetlights bow
orange tears

down to the harbor like the
first borns

who, for their sex, are set free
down river

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s