Reciprocal
Drainage cracks and fingers of
eroding souls.
Long dim hotel stairwells
are sarcastic chasms to the flood,
like artifacts of insanity
and poet's blood.
We dare to run down as
prisoners on parole,
humming parodies of parables
and dying at sea.
Our graves are laid in the
phantom fathom estuaries
and reciprocal tunnels
of our beginnings.
Copyright © Thomas Wells | Year Posted 2020
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