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“The man was high yellow In public, afraid of himself, pretending his music Was material when in fact, it was the opposite: Like a breath that comes so quickly you know You’re breathing ether: either atmospheric And anonymous as the air against a window, Or indefinite & mute as a curtain of wind.” — Terrance Hayes
The man was high yellow
In public, afraid of himself, pretending his music
Was material when in fact, it was the opposite:
Like a breath that comes so quickly you know
You’re breathing ether: either atmospheric
And anonymous as the air against a window,
Or indefinite & mute as a curtain of wind.