Unless we rearrange…

Mediterraneam sea and a rock witch pines.

Image via Wikipedia

the sky is a blue blooded royal
a yellow lettered peasant
and the clouds are subjects and rulers
in within a fresco of impatience
matted by the elixirs of colours

in the deepest parts of ourselves
where those truer chemicals flow
do we betray truth
by espousing  hormonal calamity?
▬ calamitous in righteous?
▬ converting “fictions strangers than truth” ? ▬ to do erasure to the thing painful?

▬ the heart wears a royal bondage
▬ fractured by a humble house
if monster’s human
and human monster
can the voyage be
simple?
complex?

both pairs we wore
even the blind is paired
and so the hurt who loses limbs and hearing
and the ribcage is of two
the tongue singular
yet with the teeth

why does the horizon exist?
or the ocean?
land meeting water
water meeting land

I had drank water with dolphins
and saw that I could race with birds

now I am on an oasis on the sea
a boulder to call my own…▬

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s