Golden eyes look downwards into the sun
from space above. There are no angels here
only particles and blackholes. Blue marble, Earth,
spins on, and the gold suns, eyes, burn long
after the world dies.
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Alina Happy Hansen
Writer in San Francisco, CA
- Crossroads
I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness