Gabriel Burns


And all the wars

those eyes of yours 

have started,

and all the gore

blown open in the hearts

like grotesque gardens,

by beauty, battle-hardened,

yes, all of this is lost to words;

none ever cross

the lips of worlds

exhaling in the fallout

following the meltdown.


Water (Circle)

She, the river

pushes forward.

Unbeknownst to us

she goes skywards

pulled by the hands of the sun,

travels farther and higher,

falls back down

to soothe the dust…

Tender, this time, softer,

lighter than before.

And each of us becomes her shore…

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