The Worn Panic

The Worn Panic

Randy Haddock

Howls,
night after night,
collide with the screams
of a torn fabric
left on the ground.

A map,
smeared on his face,
divides the crooked
byway.

Sighs,
between the sundowns,
confine the
unbounded clock.

The moon,
inhali…

Recent comments

  • KDMQ

    KDMQ

    · 9y

    me encantaría tener tu voz

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