#lined with

[skoomastrudel]

Building the empty.

   You don’t know about the hay bales.

      You don’t know about the lines of white...

         How I wished for my paints and brushes

            so I could capture this moment of my life.

  This is how I hope to remember youth.

    Under a night sky with yellow lights,

      these words spoken into night,

        and crying out as I bury my soul into 

          the earth along with you.

- r.s.g.