Burrowing into lies,
lives lifted look up
into a sky laced with
advertisements. a comfort
a home, made of jingles
and useless nothings.
Thank you for reading!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form