Thursday, November 10, 2016

time lapse

slowly his petioles tilt, the petals are sealing

you're turning into perfect strangers 

and though you still identify the shape
so unmistakably white
the call to the unbuttoned sense of softness
the metonym for sovereign affection
the flower eligible for paradise

your very thirst has turned him so unkind

come then, I tell her, let's close  all seams and fill the crevices

it's time to go now, child,

your feet are shoeless
you are far too blue
and darling, you don't know how
to walk on snow _ 

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