Penumbra Heart
You brought a felon backbone to the party. You panned the bouffant directory to the left
speakers and no longer backclothed the swish sultanas. You are indecent with your handcart ducklings, dripping wet florins, and praise-wet stampedes—your sister-in-law dirging past her dowry. You shave the filigree off handgun duds and clutter my late summer lunar eclipse with pinhole boxes and 3-D glasses. You fill me with inertia at 10:32 as the moonshine wanes and the penumbra fills my heart.
What I’m Reading:
“We’ve become accustomed to an impoverished planet.”
— David Attenborough / A Life on Our Planet
thee istsfor manity reader 