colors
scintillating into the ether beyond vibrant eons of holy light
amused; bored,
nothing on the pens, the paintbrush of imagination
embraced, time for another
sinking into the white
a woman gets up
she’s in love.
she is the sweet candy flip
i'm just here
mourning the sun there
a masquerade
can you be satisfied
your lips…
and a child’s hand tugs on mine,
security
celestial rainbows, life’s reverence
and the swing creaks
just a cold November morning
with men in masks i pucker up
in to the out
hillsides roll and the clock struck twelve
swallow pride, taste widened
now relying solely on texture
and on the shell
veins running,
blue
breadfruit and mango, as the swing creaks
innocence and dreams deserted
down the hatch
the clock struck morn
a glimpse of perfection from stony blindness.
as misery beckoned like a tropical disease
scratch for lice and crack the blood from fleas,
the pill box rattles
the sure thing
twisted white and gemmed
freshness hanging on my washing line
caressing fingers bent, maintaining eye contact
water bubbles in a bristling brook
i was lucky
to falter
thorns of reality
skies darken and the night settles down
loneliness drips
elsewhere,
this smile
double stars . . .
day fading
through galaxies of spiraling stars
a smooth sheet of rain
just what they’ve told us
daemons and fighting
i flicked ash at you
unresponsive
winter wants wind
all i have found is changing words
the leak drips
tears in my surface.
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