Naomi Wood

Naomi Wood

Escape Your birth will be a catastrophic ripeningThe price to belong to yourself will be theAntiques handed down to you-The lullabies of late night callsAnd all the excuses you made in order not to risk it. The counterfeit papers for your escape stuffed in your...
Naomi Wood

Naomi Wood

Closed. A Gift. A cut. Buried in the depth of you. Just enough to leave you in ruin But not so the eye can see. A fissure the exact shape and size As fire To rip through more than a canyon Of your furtive self. Like an imaginary friend The implicate re-writes Itself...