happy moths

a farewell salute to the vacuum
from forming happy moths and
our arm's slowish waving




Our heart sometimes goes without us.  Our heart going grey.  Our blood only taking us to the next day by sheer force of will.  So if you see me squeezing my wrists and spinning in circles, I’m just trying to walk.  Walking without.

Our heart sometimes goes without us.  Our heart going grey.  Our blood only taking us to the next day by sheer force of will.  So if you see me squeezing my wrists and spinning in circles, I’m just trying to walk.  Walking without.