Loading the twin calyculi
at the dawn. Cotton grass
will get anβ
extortionate price.
Silence was dead.
And as were the protests
of levitating poppies.
Chasing a colored storm
becomes a craze, these days.
Bystanders will witness
the fall of blue night.
You want to unfollow
the begonias now, cultivating
the unkissed music on the
lips of swaying reeds.
All your poetry baffles me,
All your poetry baffles me, is really incredible! A joy to (attempt lol) to read.
~ Kristen Seaward