gOd put a smile on your face
your eyes (half-thrush like two beings in the dark
and a gladiola of light spurns to chide in its bickering excess,
birds, birds of morning and paradisiacal streets half-wittingly
fork to single-handedness, a star is uttered and altars sing
rarely-beloved, a dance-song of soul) and their parenthetical
rush to what continues to live suddenly as if to say its conscious
death is a room without flowers.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
gOd put a smile on your face
your eyes (half-thrush like two beings in the dark
and a gladiola of light spurns to chide in its bickering excess,
birds, birds of morning and paradisiacal streets half-wittingly
fork to single-handedness, a star is uttered and altars sing
rarely-beloved, a dance-song of soul) and their parenthetical
rush to what continues to live suddenly as if to say its conscious
death is a room without flowers.
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