The fog of moisture occupies every oxygen molecule by two.
Under a densely grey colored matter it simply is present.
The East Texas atmosphere of nightmares and conspiracies.
I feel the fears of mankind and the anger about the monies lost.
And the folding over of dense moisturizers cling solidly around.
From my mailbox to the hidden front door, I see no house.
it disappeared within the musk of swollen wet air and I travel there walking in faith.
BoJenn April 2020
The Fog Has A Message