Whats it like? Mothers know The boarding call; Dancers know the strain, there is misery and there is a pattern, After, Its in your face and it is accepted, as no place no eternity, is ever large enough To portray playing As asunder. I dont understand A nail and seal upon a blooming place, All along once we were, and parcels expel and eyes wander; building sets in thinking diseased, and make crashes in roses and cool water feels me- I am Deep red, I am the dripping of seeing me, I am all those things You thought And no matter The dripping, You go faster And you think more Of what I did tomorrow In your mind and I will be nothing On the night as I am amongst flowers; Push through, searching fragrances, Pulling up moist dirt and the same and the shame of planting seeds in accord to instructions: rows of roses, next to annuals and dont forget the fall as he wants to stay warm. So future casts, and Ive saw it, it was a revival; it is the lock-step of 2, You feel down Teeth are tight, fists in nails in your skin; never, never the same, I hum, moths pattern again- flutter flutter, I am soft again and I love you too; I am your hands, I am watered and sweet and I can close my eyes when in rain and storm; I am strained I am his creation, I pray in sun, I live and accept my fate. ---- (c) Jessica Orr, 2015 )--picture from Pinterest-->
Posted on: Fri, 23 Jan 2015 02:13:38 +0000
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