Billingiere

Something comes to disturb what is still

making gentle sounds that stir-mix my meaning

and though I shake my head in agreement

the musical vowels say not a thing

but dance for the sake of the sands.

The shape they achieve becomes independent of me

attaching designed snakes through silk hair,

Writhing through my body no, for balance,

Dictating the beating of consonants’ march.

Overhead branches hold life’s secrets in the sourceless words,

as in one direction voice flows,

once thoughts are spoken the beauty of nothing is gone.

Author's Note

Art by Irma Chavez

Reviews

[Ryne C Brathor]

You expect n I want. Has to be at least 25 character long I was tryna be simple wtf.