Aug 2019
floral patterns
sink their scented teeth
into the canvas of reality
swirled upon a
foreign land;
eyes unseen relay it
to my slipping soul
askew to all
the blinking lights
behind me
sink their scented teeth
into the canvas of reality
swirled upon a
foreign land;
eyes unseen relay it
to my slipping soul
askew to all
the blinking lights
behind me
