It takes an hour
and a minute
for me to choose
between being
engulfed down
to ashes
by your scorching eyes
or gently shiver
in the outskirts
of this barren town;
still I chose
the way of pain
because you're
my salvation
YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PoetryI was basking under the sun-the waves muffle the sound of my breathing; and I bury myself with cautionary confidence in the sand and with it the memory of your four faces. How can something lethal be life-restorative?
