rain on the sea

what_is_on_tv_re-ev_s

There’s something unfortunate about seven a.m.,
when the dreams of worlds that might have been
ascend into the vanishment.

~/~

As I traveled the Redfern Rail one night,
through tunnels that smelled of soot and ghosts of steam,
I chatted with a stranger. Her auburn hair was wound
with a golden asp, and she told me this:

Your mind’s your own, to do with as you will.
I saved mine for special occasions,
believed in pixels and maquillage,
bowed and chanted to great Osiris,
but I know better now.

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