Simple and easy I
Dream of you.

I followed you through dry sunlight
        Walking in the yard, our garden,
The way your shoulders bare
Sway musically with nature
As you get to the root of a ****.
The bed is accomplished
Not over-floral.

I clip three blooms off
Our iron gate hung roses
For the white vase placed in the light
by the kitchen window.

**** to
some
is
erotica to
others.

A feast to
me
maybe
a snack
to you.

We see things
differently
through filtered
eyes,
with varying
experiences.

Open
minds
think beyond
good and
evil.

~
Sheltered within her cryochamber, the offspring of Armageddon dreams of play. She swims in an algal bloom that no longer stings like jellyfish. She floats on the surface of content, far removed from the synthetic sea and its plastic isles. She dwells in a bubble, but her mind hangs free as a halo, soaring with clouds. But these are not the skies that sense their own act of vandalism. This is the space and ceiling of a child's mind, in her capacity to absorb disturbance and rest her tiny, fragile hope in pretended, unclaimed worlds.
~

And

So
                    Perhaps
Some day

Sun

Bored

Will draw a veil

And sit

                              Hidden
                                              Embroidering

Some
Sunny
Moon