mind of smoke TALYA KALTMAN-KRON
mind like the midnight sky thoughts shout out no sound surfaces eyes dry, sleeplessness reeks from the room like spiders my stomach spirals dropping through the darkness, cold skin in the heat notice left and right fragrance of the smoke dripping through the walls trapped inside no movement stars may shine yet — night wears a coat that their light does not punctuate it’s just a mind of smoke.
44 • fall 2020
