Spring Abstract

 
IMG_0038 (1)
 
 
The mild sun
bubbles azure beasts that
devour the stars . . .
Color errs in its boasts;
Prisms bluster.–Never take to heart
the wisdom of warmth.

. . . reach out,
the fingers that time submerges
in motion, in evolution, in chaos
(emptiness plump with seed,
sugars, perfume,)

Birth.

Horizons all end on the same
vanishing curl:
. . . arms
that brim the wild unknowns.
 
 

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