You project images of innocent animals
and make them smell better than they should.
Like an acoustic song in minor key
I looked at you too carefully.
And I wish an orange flood would
wash your beautiful blues away
like a stolen lock with no key
you're more lost than a child in limbo...
light shone on you that day
but still I won't claim to see what isn't even there
Hovering like pot smoke in the
air
where blindness runs to die.