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A Smearing of Vermillion
Midnight obsidian, strangling silhouettes, glittering auras of cities, and the far off sound of trains. Dreamlike specters penetrate this eternal fastness. She said the glorious scarlet indigo sunset symbolizes death. A picture of my love, disclosing vermillion smeared across her beautiful face. Dark hair cascading in the ancient breeze, her youthful skin still glowing radiantly. Upon her ceiling, the outline of a dream catcher. Distant flutes and chants echoing across the grassland, forest and corners of her room. In the strange shortness of eternity, I invent depth. In the vast outreaches of the expanding Milky Way, I return home. I have discovered the hidden patterns in the stars, meaning in the first light of dawn, synchronicity in each billboard, and transformation in the sun. Each divine evening, sitting humbly beneath the sacred trees, I devour the tests, I meditate intently, and recite poetry to the ghosts. Fireflies ignite my spirituality. The silver moon haunts my heart. I seek only balance, and a life well traveled, this worn out skin loved, and slowly forgotten in the dust of future kingdoms destroyed.
