BLOOD FROM A STONE
Red horizon.
the air thick with the smell of burnt peaches,
plumes of smoke disguised as angels.
How can we draw blood from stone corpses?
Or Take refuge in the refuse of old ideas?
In the absence of this constructed persona….
The soul walks free.
Eyes sink into the earth,
The body falls away, an unnecessary hindrance,
Here…..everything smells of burnt almonds.
Joey Taouk
