Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

dead air threads

i wonder if the threads of your
voice could stitch up the wounds
of the dead air between us –
if we cared a little more for
that distance between our shadows
we wouldn’t have just let our regrets
stretch so long in front of us –
on those old roads,
washed in a thinning
sunset gold, reminding me of
the orange rust sticking to
my cast iron heart – must burn it up
and throw it out in order to restart

2 Responses to “dead air threads”

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