BB Grey–musings

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Like an ocean, Vaughn holds the photograph— voice on the other side .  
One side: Picture this.  
The other: me, you, inside out. 
White noise 
 
Bird's-eye view? 
 Even rivers run dry. 
 Cry. 
 
Untucked, meat, your way—yes please, king. 
Angel sent, then spent.  
Another chance: awake to die. 
 
Mama gave birth to a sun—amidst a cold moon 
Blood in the harvest 
We sow what we wreck
 
Up close?  
The tree 
Still grows  
In a hateful spite 
Against you and me.

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