257.
White horse in front of
A blue bowl. Phone interrupts
The auto-response.
257.
White horse in front of
A blue bowl. Phone interrupts
The auto-response.
256.
My teeth are not what
They were, nor skin, nor the wolves
Sheltered in my bones.
255.
A forum for moons,
Four distinct dreams with one end;
Lanterns of blue truth.
254.
In the end, there is
Only peace. Everything else
Were fissures and breaks.