Never come chasing
after him if he runs
away from home—
several nights it gets
so heavy but there's
no one but him inside;
and no man should
stay concealed in the
confinements of home,
most truly when
his friends are half as
dubious as the wolves
preying at night
YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PoesíaI 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?
