The Color of Rachmanus

[michaelboy]

Complacency spreads into horizons and sinks like missing suns in sated souls satisfactory to all good rules of comfort
for they are good and equally lonely

And here I want to spread apple butter
from a forgotten jar my mom had at home,
squish white bread into perfect little cubes
and curl my toes on warm concrete curbs
turning me the purple of fake-grape popsicles

and then,

I could see the sun turning all orange
so perfectly round and thrilling
(setting here and spreading quietly)

Comments

[keplers_angels]

apple butter sun...
i turn my face to it and feel
like I've wasted every single other moment

well, except for one or two

[michaelboy]

🌞