powder falls as dust
in the meantime so hopeful
we do all we must
dust
Chipped concrete
chipped concrete flowers
hard rain on dust, mud runs thick
living the project
The sun touches the horizon
The sun touches the horizon, soon to vanish.
The warm air still allows half-nakedness in the shade.
Dust and people settle for the evening.
Dusted
I pulled stars down from the soft black sky and crushed them hard in my hands to a gold-white powder. A mixture then with caught rainwater, a fingertip of honey and a tear. Then a syringe and slammed into my veins.
simonsalento 