A Cliff Has But One Face

Truman Kelsey
Dec 5, 2020

A thinking man on the edge of his bed,
where his contemplation dangles
with jaded toes – where a raw mind
begins to grow along the precipice,
and blooms there an original and
unforeseen hue, designed solely
to breathe the invisible, though,
necessary air.

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Truman Kelsey

I am a St. Louis-based writer. I live with a wonderful woman and our cat. My serial, “The Mother from White Letters,” can be found on Kindle Vella and Wattpad.