Igneous Prophet

By J. Martin Strangeweather

Today I met a man who only spoke in stones

Pebbles dribbled from his craggy lips
With promises of boulders

Despite my disbelief
I will soon be crushed
Beneath his mountain of rubble
––––––––––
“I don’t write the words. The words write me, and I try not to get in the way.” – the writer

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