09.02.2019

by storm

demon trap

flying in over the canyon 

recognizing 

nooks and crannies, the river. 

cars like shiny insects crawling home 

or passing through

you think

my god it really is a wound

that place,

split open. 

the earth torn like skin, the bleeding

sandstone,

let it not devour me

let me pass through 

this time

— leave it