Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Anger Management, a Wistful Gesture and Sketchy Regret

Scantling Saywas

Even though the walls
Collapsed like lungs
Even though to speak
Burnt like a grate
Even though your body
Melted into space
Even though the blank
Was flamed through with holes

The morning still maintained
A message from before
The paths still proclaimed
Footfall echo maps
And afternoons still basked
A scent of light turning

Over on an open river