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Dragon
Firecracker red under Equator sun, lion’s mane
bobbing, obscene tongue. Unseen,
the serpent slips inside, small as a whisper.
It curls around my heart, hoarding it like treasure.
Fans warm embers of my pomegranate cells, wakes
something deep inside the cave of my being.
It slumbers and I am haunted by its dreams, carry
a sketchbook at school and draw pictures of great
winged beasts. Enormous eyes. Shimmering scales,
miss out on playground games. Always a strange
child, I am told I have a great imagination,
but it isn’t hard recreating your own reflection.
Sometimes it wakes, blazes lazily to life.
A cherry tree in full blossom, through an acid lens
becomes a majestic head; my inner self cartoon bright.
My fire, even cold, ready to catch and burn.
Copyright ©
A lost Poet
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