who kept giving me forms to fill out.
Category: macro
Every autumn
I’m impressed anew by the sheer inventiveness of death.
The rain comes hammering on the plush roof of the earth.
After a while, it opens one by one its mush rooms.
Grown old and grizzled,
you no longer have to wonder whether her scent is meant for you.
Flowers evolved as clickbait for pollinators.
You won’t believe what happened next.
The white dwarf’s embrace of its black hole partner is so close,
it sends headline writers into hyperdrive. To some, the black hole is predatory; to others, the star is insane. But what if it’s love?
wetlands in winter
I crush another cathedral
with every step
