What
can you say about past?
Do
you know texture?
Would
you shade or dot it now?
Moon-rise or set sun, constant ties…
Red
lips like hills,
Whispering
away my life,
Bits
toppling in waves, like pebbles
Sounding;
did this, said that
Into
a sea-word, they splash.
I
straighten collar-speech,
Shoulders
still, though relaxed
Whilst
my lady, keep creaming visions,
I
will lick blades and melt the air.
Like
leaves we defy forces of nature,
Man’s
matter cannot shake us,
Hence
mother went, “Be weary son.”
As
the owls on left, spoke hate.
Our
lips remain green,
Emotions
vital as spleen,
Thoughts
keen as queens,
Your
aurora real as dreams.
Dark
blends with dim now,
Past
spread on ground,
Present
drifts away,
We
depart, love mustn't delay.
M.O.O aka Carswell evoL
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