Autumn 16, it came from inside
ripping us apart.
Time brought the disease.
The count of our remaining days
caught in the claws of the bird.
I was Abel. You were Cain
Now, my friend, we are all gone.
Wounded to death, but cured of ourselves.
I protect my eyes from the light
My hand stained with dirty red ink.
You are Abel. I am Cain. ... more