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Above the shoulders.
Under the tip,
Ferrero Roche of
The tongue
Saving a pendulum
Swinging thing
Appraised like the ocean in gentle breeze
Under a dip,
Taking care of an anchor
Delving toward the Earth and sky.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Mirroring for my bridal song.
Opaque reflecting.

Confine my white, blue and yellow or
Yuzu fruit underwater.
The slice of life's parrot.
They sing
The flight, they might be
Waiting at the traffic light.
Narratives speaking out of features.
Features of the strange signature of a left hand.
Explaining is the evermore expectation.

Even when a movie plays
It is not just watched anymore.
The evermore explanation.
Left hand shaking striving in time to help the right.
As it always has been.
Perhaps it had not been seen.

Looking at straight lines like shoots.
The sunshine of restart
Falling slowly.
Tiny windows through a
Favourite scene when the weather is weary
Like watching a movie.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
How do the leaves fall?
They fall like safety on a Sunday.

Can the petals always stray?
Petals that curl like the morning wake.

No longer will there be a favourite colour.
Hues of the sky, the rain sets and
Nourishes the pallette in the eyes.

Girls take out their bows and ribbons.
A lad says it was a sweet surprise.
In the wondrous tinted twilight
The leaves agree to hold the twinkling
Before the blooms stir.

There I plant you in
My garden for you and I
Will always return.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
At least we know now
What we did not know then.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Parallel lines
They never go
Simply understood.
Longer than never
In a million years.
Long dreams
To always have the sun
Chasing oriental afternoon.
Simple life simply joy simply life
So much of time
Feeling so little.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo

My dreams were thrillers.
Wild was the mass superiority,
Invincibility's cherished messy fraud.
Wrath coloured warning crimson wrote Justice.
People watched as Mercy perished.

Gin lady lowers her lips by the skin of Reedy Lake
Across and further inside
Wood to share
Silence of the creek
Life that hid and flourished
Grounds for the winding road.
Three hours wheeled
A stormy ride in the night.

The blindness of lightning strikes.
Close your eyes
For the flames of deeper under.
Blindness breaks in a spark on the pan.
Thunder shatters the sky.
There are so many experiences to observe without using your plain sight. I thought about this while taking a quick roadtrip up north in Queensland. I saw some of the aftermath of the bushfires. Burnt barks and leaves gone. Marooned soil off-road. People experienced a lot more than that.
My hair grows
Like patience
against my will
  behind my back
yesterday's destiny
jungle long
in time for every
  sunrise and sunset.
I sing about blooming under the same moon. You need a full moon to bloom.
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