DuendeA Poem by PerditionReason sleeps in my barren trees I often tell
myself black as the
sheet that strains along the slight hidden inside
my nature Reason sleeps and carves the knife of wishes into a mind
of fog that covers the windows and lures away sleep’s sanity there are times when I forget to let small things in times I forget to let them out, stopping to see what dark clouds are swirling on the fist of horizon, times when the world slips into hallucinogen, escaping through the last draw and image, times when you can hear the rising of your chest and the door opens but death comes not to night straining instead toward darkness with the flame and
gasoline of heaven’s light most have heard the world’s reflection their silicone slope passing by a gold tipped
butterfly green as the
flowers the ghosts will carry denuding the thoughts of loveliness from our eyes but I am exposed tied with the
hands that were borrowed by rope to brush away
the momentary fly from its fruit when she bears herself in din and dark tranquility still this howling note growls awake in the frozen
bulb I tell myself watching the moon’s shadow sculpt a miniature neon
christ watching memory’s face laugh back as dusk swims slow
and steady for this sleep turns my fray into night with the song
of the robin and the footsteps beneath my journey from the murky end of the fox © 2019 PerditionReviews
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4 Reviews Added on January 8, 2019 Last Updated on January 8, 2019 |