2 october 2018
The Assaulter
You were aging by nights.
Days will not seek
to defend you.
Drawing the landscape
of a snowfall,
you will die in a portrait.
The world meets
you again like a jawless
lamprey with sucker mouth.
Beyond the blues
lies a tower, where
you will not find the stairs.
In battlefield, stands
the army of red ants, ready
to pound upon the moonlight.
11 april 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 april 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 april 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 april 2026
Anthony DiMichele
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