the lips of the dead
whisper no final words.
no comfort, no signal
of pain or rest. no parting
blessing or curse. only
the child’s vacant eyes
that never saw it coming.
– written after parkland
the lips of the dead
whisper no final words.
no comfort, no signal
of pain or rest. no parting
blessing or curse. only
the child’s vacant eyes
that never saw it coming.
– written after parkland
Awaiting the Images 