one page turns
notes are sprawled across creamy ink-stained pages
he breathes silently with each flutter of the page
his skin is streaked across so euphorically with each passing tear
soft blue ministrations upon a teal canvas, sherbet clouds rounded across in warm brush strokes.
every time he breathes, creamy blank pages fold inside his lungs
red spines and twined threads hold each page together as they fly out of him
he breathes and his rib cage opens and fulfills his inner desire of the heavens,
each splatter of ink swimming in his lungs and filling up his stomach.
breathe
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ink
breathe
YOU ARE READING
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Poetryearth → purgatory → heaven // hell ↓ illusion my poem compilation from the past year ♤ lowercase intended ♤
