• Personale

    Beautiful Arsonists

    We were running through a burning museum, so horrified to find an escape. We did not realize it was our rush setting things on fire. Creators of immense beauty. Unstoppable arsonists. We ran, our lungs filled with dust, Is escaping a blessing or a curse? It is How it is. Escaping. A heap of smoking ashes In a half burned frame And no walls to hang it onto