Вдохновение

An antique universe

opens and wounds us

spins and spits out

murder with a wave

a quake, a fire



We comb the streets

for the floating dead

We drift through ghostly

disasters and everything

is harsh and final.



Hope changes time

and time changes

the shallow proof

of memory.



Who is god

that presides over

such loss?

Описание

Audria Colours et poem