This won’t hurt one bit.
These bite-sized descriptions
of the internal experience
of being set ablaze
ought to suffice,
for a moment’s notice at least.
I have hands only for you,
but they grow less curious
as the summer days
become merely a daze.
To waken in the worst possible light…
Somewhat of a norm it seems.
Only, consider what dreams preceded,
and suddenly it ain’t so bad.
I’ve definitely had my fair share of disarray,
wouldn’t you say?
Mountains, monuments,
eroding in double time,
whole cities belching themselves
inside out, the list goes on.
We could fawn over all this
for centuries, if
we had the money,
but, as so often is inconveniently revealed
in the worst possible light,
it’s in fact the money that has us.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 