Yet you instrument
death
at dawn.
Like an old
tune
in Spring.
A cacophony
slicing
scythe.
New year
meant nothing.
This Aries dusk.
by a tijuanense xicano: identity, religion, a dab of politics & wads literature @ 2¢ a pop – exegete at large
Yet you instrument
death
at dawn.
Like an old
tune
in Spring.
A cacophony
slicing
scythe.
New year
meant nothing.
This Aries dusk.