I am
your lilac moon,
cocooned in cashmere wool
of clouds that carol in chorus,
love-sewn
Searching
for life beyond
hieroglyphic fangs
of hoaxed hydrangeas, exiled in
grey moors;
Today,
jasmine stars taste
bittersweet and each tan
twilight reminds me of your scent,
deadly
And no
inked dots align
in intuitions from
constellations of confusion,
again;
So, drink
saturated
misunderstandings as
mist from blood-stained petals like plush
smoked tears
As, hope
has always drawn
me as a chirping flake,
faced like a...
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