i can almost taste lake michigan on my lips
and breathe the rot of autumn at close grip
when i say god and gaze upon a place
in the curtain hanging black across His face
the fabric falls away and my eye goes distant
to a floating island in an upper quadrant
looking way beyond because it's been so long
since the call to prayer for me's been gonged.
"Mthyuh...I'm so grateful..."
Jack Skelley’s Brian Jones *
3 hours ago