A trap
Clouds form behind doors, deep-set in hills, like eyes in brows. Hums leak from edges, cause ripples of air, like heat on roads. I’m drawn to it. Blood pressure infused with gravity, it weighs on me heavy silence, like thick-laid snow. Words wait there, I’m sure; snared and bear-trapped, deathly glow, laced with poison, rigged to blow.
Writing and creativityDark days