My sincerest apologies,

I forgot how much

it hurts when the air you breathe,

it burns, and the way you see

it’s worse.

My most earnest regrets,

I didn’t know you’re

hiding, I didn’t see you

crying, I didn’t believe you could be

lying.

Sweet, sweet separation

between river

and her rock, pen

and her paper, tree

and her leaves, night

and her starlight, such

sweet, sweet distinction.

Our reflections in

mirrors, the taste

of water,

our breath, our

fingers counted

in fives.

Right now, and

forever, for

the first time.

The brown rain soiled

under a rusted sky,

rainbows in puddles’ oil.

The elements enchained, we’re

swallowed up in steel beasts.

My one goal was to be able to create and self-publish my book with only free tools and methods. No outsourcing the work or paying for nifty software.

I already had the original drafts of the content (30 poems) published here on Medium, so I thought I could quickly assemble the work into a .doc file and publish it as an ebook.

On deaf tempest

and wild fire

my muted plea

fell, merely more

for the pyre.