bury the fact you find, this one is mine

winter tree 2

the air
we surround
the murder tree bends
under new weight
in air
and a sound
the way once our voice
cried against light

the room
we succumb
the first of our friends
taken it up
no room
we become
set out straight machines
never to stop

a word
not a shroud
covers our bodies
restless we sleep
no word
can be found
to bring forth a truth
we dare to speak

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One thought on “bury the fact you find, this one is mine

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