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Market Research Group

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Maverick Adams
Maverick Adams

BoA - Moon Sunrise ##HOT##

My eleven windows are sheets of ice. A clutter of white spiders runs across the blue shadow of the moon. My shadow is lost in their shadows. Time can't see itself in the mirror. I sleep inside my own head, a shame substitute for sunrise when I wake and wonder where I am. It will be raining, and I will be late for everything. The hills are plumb tonight in the curse-kiss of absence, in rain spore and lamp shadow. A million furnaces in melancholy galaxies burn out where suicides outnumber births, land of the dead where expediency trumps romance. To reach it, I have to swim the depths of all the bottomless seas in my sleep. The only way to reach extinguished stars.

BoA - Moon Sunrise

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