sunrise over phoenix, and the world is quiet, the mountains stand at the ready – piercing the new day, bubbling like magma bones and fleshy cellulite strained into the air — the dirt is thick purple, the heat stiffles at every time of day – the air trembles with the murmur of the new day — these ancient piles, these magic wishbones of earth — i see you, i see you
and the news / the bruises, the endless aching heart of tragedy,, how dare we betray our lives with violence? how dare the world spin endlessly in this heartbreak – where is anything but senselessness?
lauren suchenski 