I'm a fractional aspect.A plastic bag of what was last kept,last year,cold on the back steps.Until the wind made wings of what little's left, and restored to me, some sort of grasp on my last breath.
Problematic Poetry
I'm a fractional aspect.A plastic bag of what was last kept,last year,cold on the back steps.Until the wind made wings of what little's left, and restored to me, some sort of grasp on my last breath.