Survival Mechanism (Implementation in Progress)
Steel
12’ pictured. Melted, welded.
Twentysix
The sunrise never came.
Flat clouds grey, thin, and cloying lingered coolly on the tree line and the moon would not let go, and nor could I: there was aching in my shoulders and the depths of my weak lungs and my dry throat. Oh love, I'm scared. I fear deep water and the dark for they are hungry and are fierce, and in the dark and deep and hungry, there is little to give comfort to our bones. Where will we turn when there is nothing?
