Marie Antionette
preferred pie over cake,
and briefs over thongs.

A fervour for fashion,
But not a fan of
The Flour War,
nor her ghastly wrongs.

Poufs and panache?
Imprimatur, for sure.
"That's entertainment,"
said the brochure.

Affair of
the diamond necklace,
such a coup.

A material girl,
how about you?

Now remember,
how comely the rose
when she was so rich and red.

But also the onus
to how she lost
her pretty little head.

There is a language spoken
Between the leaves and the breeze
Peacefully green, the leaves
Ever changing the velocity of the breeze
Ancient and eternal their relationship


🌿🌿

Walking through the soul of humanity
I weep tears
“the tears of the world are a constant quantity”
and so that endless river flows
never to kiss a forgiving sea

The arrows of time
sometimes turn back
and tear through the flesh of your past
and you are left there bleeding
alone

I split open this
what floods in
is this world
how human twists beauty into the shapes
distorted and damaged

Failing is the I
love and kisses and embraces
never even find
the deepest part of the cuts

Screaming at the worthless I
incapable of sewing back together
the legs and arms and hearts
and dreams and lips and hopes and lives

Walking through the soul of humanity
I weep tears
“the tears of the world are of constant quantity”
and so that endless river flows
never to kiss a healing sea

The arrows of time
sometimes turn back
and tear through the flesh of the past
and they are left there bleeding
alone