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It's a Cold LandscapeIt's a cold landscapeIt's a Cold Landscape by Anante
In the black night of your life
As I yell into your wind
These shivers become endless.
The Whole InternalThe space between trees is theThe Whole Internal by Anante
viewfinder at the beginning of
time. In and out, exchanges
for visions lost across deserts
Inside, the rattling of
Outside, the wailing of
When the roots strike gold, leaves
mourn their summit. Height does
not bring the heavens to them, they are
brought to the heavens.
An elevator ride
away they rebel with fury: their downward
journey, a picture found between twigs.
And they kiss the soil.
“How do you feel?
You lose your leaves in the fall.”
“It’s a sad thing to be ill.”