A literary Review of a 25 year old

Light is there

faintly

as through a linen curtain

drawn shut


So many words alive, unsettled

moving about with barely room for

one another, barely folding together enough

to make any real utterance

 

No civility

or reverence

 

Only harsh brutality, natural

like the first man

looking through flaming swords

 

Light barely perceived

illumination only enough

to penetrate and reveal a life

of true and utter darkness

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