diamonds

Flying across the white expanse a dull day becomes coloured with the distant foggy black marks of flight opening wings wide like a murder of beaks thirsty for the blood of the ink of others on their blunt dry nibs, it ruffles their feathers colourful for a short while between the lines of a vacant pride, the worthless worthiness of removing veils from other brides, Faust flapping crows disguised as angels come calling like unclaimed friends from all quarters, then, curious bluebirds dissecting their purpose, discover something shining and beautiful found in the dirt between the cavities in all their walls, behind the ugliness, jewels like Ariadne (writer not myth) possessing the opposite title held to the mirror - "he ventures she wins", are fished out and discarded in the swirling ice, cubed in the depths of a dark well like unclaimed diamonds, solid gems, waiting amidst all those other melting treasures to be, or not to be, found Candide Diderot. ‘24