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Hanging, yes, and waiting for the forgery to finish, the lights of reality to come floating back down with the curtain amidst some brief applause — stellar finish, really — but the constellations up there, affecting whatever down here, aren’t perfect imitations either — 
the disquiet…it persists.
Disquiet: Prose Poem
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J.D. Harms
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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May 18, 2022
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LOVE this.
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Written by Jenine Bsharah Baines3K Followers
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J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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