August twilight

Magpies scream
pterodactyl primordial
dissonant

they hurt my heart:

the trees are
too green
too green

acid light
burning retina.

A year blurred,
movement
no movement

there is too
much love
in this

it unhinges knots
better left hidden

it seeps in the
night, dying
white walls

golden.

We are twisted
by the years
maimed, burnt

engulfed by
kismet’s white
flame

it has no name
it has no name.

What lies beneath
fills the world
with potent

emotion.

The trees are
too green
too green

they give
no rest:

the mirror
of an old God
cracks in the

twilight.

August on
the run
we are twice

bitten.