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 May 8 irinia
nivek
joined at the hip with the dead
you live with constant reminders
a sober remembrance of fragility
the time you will return to dust.
Patterns are common,
Some are better at seeing,
Them when they appear.
Life is often a game of connect the dots
 May 8 irinia
Maria Etre
Here,
Let me wet
your quill
That's what
I call
a fresh
start
I wandered deep where the night forgets,
Through shadowed doors in silken nets.
The moon wore masks of grinning gold,
And time stood still, yet centuries old.

A ticking cage inside my head,
Whispered secrets the silence fed.
My thoughts were birds with backward wings,
They sang of clocks and burning springs.

A mirrored sky began to weep,
Each teardrop birthing eyes that sleep.
They watched me dance on fractured glass,
While hours curled like blades in grass.

The forest breathed in riddled verse,
Each leaf a curse, each root a hearse.
I asked the wind, “What path is mine?”
It answered, “All, and none, in time.”

The stars spelled names I’d never known,
Carved deep in dreams not quite my own.
I kissed the lips of reason's ghost,
And drank with fear—a maddened host.

Yet when I woke, the world was sane,
But something laughed behind my brain.
It wore my voice, it knew my face—
And left me tethered in its place.
dream insanity
Just like that, outta the blue
I realize that no matter what I do
There'll never ever be another you
And it hurts like hell...
Btw, how great is Chet Baker??
They touch
With a featherlight, brush of the fingertips.
Their prompt is a mere insinuation....
And their influence offered
As the slightest whisp of a wafting breeze.
But the impact made
Can be utterly monumental
And a driving impetus
To the receptive, creative soul
On a mission!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
Inspired by the melodic artwork encased
in Agnes de Lod's short verse "Muses"
It could never work
You were a duchess
While I was a fool

But what a pretty
Dream it was...
If only my blood was blue...
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