Shy away from the crude poisons – retreat into cotton beds

I can see my sister cutting birthday cake in a gauze parallel

But in the grotto it’s fine – she’s stood there encased in a rain of pink blossoms

And the daily crepuscular panoply of aromatic sunsets

And the bow of rains that followed, streaking iridescent gossamer across the ash blue canvass

Our frames mingle with lithe,  aqueous – spellbinding warmth!

And I sink inside your lagoon and divest myself there

And then another, flutters across the tiles, an olive skinned butterfly

I drift inside the arena of my own unconquerable mist


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