2020-09-28 – Shadow Shore

tattoos are aging loosely
stretched across my
spreading
pupils,

yet twisted in within
this brain’s
wreck,

each sun drops with
such precise an
elegance,

that it flirts awake the
tumbleweeds and
crispy leaves,

all that nothingness in
space cleared for

ever’s pure
silence

no longer wilted weed
chained to eden’s
fence,

ink chamber’s loaded,
wet lids part like
gauzy seas

midst last gasp
of storm,

salty weathers gush
remorse through
each venetian
pore,

bleached and beached
on shadow shore

when pregnant pause is
heard, but little
more.

Grumpy Gorman
igram: https://www.instagram.com/gèèrumpygorman/?hl=

image at – https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/355362226818756188/

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