Author name: sydneywhitby1

Soft place

To have dreams I think isa soft placejust beneath the kneeinner thighflesh beneath the chin bone To have dreams is […]

Not much more thansprightly twigsgreen tomatoseed on asphaltthe atoms sprawled across the skybefore they gather in a meetingand become a

America is like a big familyeveryone is eternallyin the living roomin their pajamasfighting or loving (as siblings)offering snacks and yelling

(A very messy and syntaxless body of bananathoughts conceived on a metal voyage) Dreams on flighty wingsallude mecome to me

sand settles at the bottom of a glassa single strandof Sunwiggles through the waterand onto (a) palm of a hand

people come and goclouds sustain addiction to the sunwinters envy summerscelestial wrenchingssustain my kneesto the floor my heart these yearsis

You took a piece of Sunand shined it to my cavitiesI took your wretched handand placed it over my depravity

I want to see you fall to piecesI want to see your face unfixedI want your unadulterated tongueI want your

Hoarse vowels dryup in the windof winterthe trees refuse to bendthe lead stays stubborn, as lead. (It cannot be gold).