14.8.23

Vuelvo by Noah Rymer

sonorous screech 

of cicadas 

a thin tune


beating wings of dragonflies

a composition 

in itself


honey crunch of leaves

gravel 

and dusted sighs


it all comes to a close around ten o’ clock


swimming darkness of slept suburbia

dissipating dreams that always seem to escape

into the starless ether of wooden clouds

ghosts hung to dry sheets in cool wind 


Madrid, I call you my lover in these nights,

through the tilted glimpse of motor blurs

from the two-story and basements

nestled melancholic deep within


the tattered skin that I so wear

and the eyes that peel right through it

 

Noah Rymer