By Louie Rivers Not a cruel place,only a place that does not explain itself.A door left open in weatherthat never decides to enter or leave.Wanting exists herewithout promise of arrival—a current that keeps directionbut refuses destination.A glass left out overnightcollecting the shape of air.Known and unknownmove through each otheruntil the boundary forgets its duty.Young and … Continue reading On What Becomes
