Archives for posts with tag: fleeting pixel no. 480

Snowflake mortuary | Winter still on your tongue | a tip of ecstasy | melting to spring

Iceberg library | drifting clichés | Reading Sartre and sleeping head | on your folded arms | When you wake, it’s snowing

 


from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)
(this poem, November 2013)

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Snowflake mortuary | Winter still on your tongue | a tip of ecstasy | melting to spring

Iceberg library | drifting clichés | Reading Sartre and sleeping head | on your folded arms | When you wake, it’s snowing