Still. So still. Breathe a moment at a
blank, smooth, lost between the curves
of your cheeks, pale
thoughts and straight lines, do you
dream, do you feel the raw
light as it bleaches your skin, carving
shadows beneath your eyes. Are you inside
a dream within a dream, or is it nothing
but distilled death, a kindness without pain,
an undigested loss. And I sit with you,
my corroded heart waiting for
you to return to this moment, and the next.

Published by

Steven Baird

Writer, amateur photographer, ad compositor and chicken herder.

4 thoughts on “Corrosion”

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