Alright, I’m going to need a moment.
A haunting sound, a haunting image.
A single sigh swathed in sheets of blue.
To think I once thought myself capable
of measuring the will of the earth
using only extremities.
I’m afraid I must retract the following:
past statements, past indiscretions, past lives.
Rosy dust coheres in an out-of-touch space.
I caress the finer points of time’s edge,
singing to myself and myself alone
a litany of little deviations.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 