June 3, 2024

softbound

i woke up to one warm,
orange sunrise, the heat
was almost unhateable,
and the reflects it made
as i opened my window
for scum foreign winds
were mellowly melting
my eyes.

i wanted to savor, save
everything that might
not happen any longer.

what happened next
didn't matter anymore,
as seven dead photos
should've never existed,
pictures of peace-prays—
could have been perfect.