Alluviation

°

°

. An Alluviation

of words

°

unspoken

°

°

I rive you .

. if you let me

°

°

and compose

the sound of decay

°

°

°

so you

°

can spring .

.

.

.

.

.

TIMER

Related Blogposts

A trail of footprints behind you. Bare feet, left and right, just as you would expect them to be in the moist sand of a winters beach. Yet you leave none beneath you, levitating in air as if it was water. Big creatures of seaweed flocks the water’s edge; tall,…

Leaf found himself having been born. With a memory. Of wind and soil. From the wind, his sisters and brothers whispered to him. From the soil, they sang. Leaf’s nerves were roots, his roots nerves. He grew into his world. Seven years passed. Someone died. Leaf bent inwards. A mist…