days of stone
—
by
falling tears shatter my face— dawn tide pool Ryan Stone
in the Wheatbelt sharp grain ears listen… wind-song Ryan Stone
cubby house— in the far corner cobwebs Ryan Stone
on my window fat raindrops tom-tom distant thunder Ryan Stone
wild things dancing— a spring wind bedsheet rumpus spins our Hills Hoist Ryan Stone
while shopping abroad— beer, bibles, guns and sweatpants all in one aisle Ryan Stone
on black satin sheets she gives herself to the moon— rose petals and thorns Ryan Stone
forest twilight insubstantial geisha— Komorebi Ryan Stone
silk corner cobwebs entwine yesterday’s dry husks, bloodless and rotting Ryan Stone
after the dance her questioning hands— is this your first time? Ryan Stone
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