Lichen Song

—Snow in the air     you’ve seen a crust on the ceiling wood and never considered how I gather moisture when you step out of the shower     you don’t care that I respire as you breathe     for years you’ve washed your face gazed in the mirror shaved combed your hair rushed out while I who may grow an inch in a thousand years catch the tingling sunlight     you don’t understand how I can dive

Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.