A whisping shell of what’s genuine
Never as is but as projected
A blur of material things
Some live as shadows
Artificial clones
Wandering
Towards freedom in the dark
0

You might also like…

Poetry

Moonmouse

S.L. Harris

We brought them with us accidentally, or maybe they were secret smuggled pets for someone who worried they might get lonely. They'd've been right to worry: it's really lonely on the moon.   Howeve ...  [+]

Poetry
Poetry