dziwne wiersze
zaloguj się

Morgan Moonscar

“…he is mostly skin and bones, his clothes are tattered and his rapier is rusty in
​numerous places.”
                                          —Villains Wiki
The tyranny of beauty continues
to disappoint because beauty isn’t
justice. Sometimes it isn’t even
beauty, in which case we call it fear.
The window of time between now
and universal heat death is enough
for one real apology, so we’d better
make it a good one—maybe
​
the kind that sings or pops out
when you open the card. We are all
just fractions of death, right? So why
is it you’re looking at me like that?
This poem appeared in Little River, Issue #9.

10.09.2026

komentarze

jeszcze nie ma komentarzy