words by dominic riccitello

in the midst of the fog
i stand at guard
to bask in the fall of my dreams
water topples, vacancy becomes
droplets scream in the name of
how two could become wastefully
we war at our vices
haul to our own devices
dancing with faces angled
jagged eyes in fields of daisies
we tangoed between flowers
to run through mazes of scattered glass
i held your hands
if only you could understand