Sunrise,

blood horizon

hides

other worlds.

Stars collide

comet’s blaze

burn lives

mellow now.

Ripe like

fallen fruit

I’m

soft around

the edge

bruised from

the constant

slam of

constellations.

Moon turns

a blind eye

feeds on our

ignorance.

Sunrise,

blood red

snow morning

the children

play on

malleable.

Poetry