with fire in the hands
with fire in the hands
by tanner brockwell
with fire in the hands
willful of decadence
there is no substitute
that is away that was sent
there for not and then
this is a sweet soft when
dust dried sun baked
could water again flow
all the sky is passing fast
wheels upon a nowhere track
half belonging half packed
carry with you carry
all things that value make
milk of kindness only in kind
for their is a friend
friendly as in only time
that like the slow march
leads into these most new
and there in memory words
became the scratched path
of steps that only few would step
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