In my dream
I woke up in a
garden and walked
into a painting,
silver, golden
flowers dancing in
the trees, varied colors
shapes; with gifted
powers I invoked a quiet
fragrance in the breeze,
I placed the sun
on the topmost branch,
from the other side
the soft moon was oozing
juice that melted like honey,
everything looked small,
perfect, I was big enough
not to get in
I wondered why I
wouldn't fit in, I felt a
pain in the eyes
that sensed the death of
this strange world,
they had to open,
I'm alive why,
a voice whispered,
to die again in the
womb of another
honeymoon
No comments:
Post a Comment