rising from the (un)dead
im tangled in piano strings
gathering leaves & pressing
flowers in these brittle pages
collecting gold holding time
or a moment at least
whilst marvelling
at the spectacular colour clash
of the flowers in my window
drinking this milky morning
and the magic
in the absoluteness
of nature and her (un)
certainty.
my mind strays
aware of our own fragility
i try to describe the night
with my five senses
like the way sunday feels
when you awake
recalling the shadow
of the rabbit in the moon
and the way the acoustics
change in accordance with the light
and you grow another heart
to beat softly in time
with the twinkling of the stars
and their morse code messages
lying in green
beneath a blanket of petals
and leaves raining down
on your eager body
whilst the elements
seduce your skin
and you can taste the weather
on your tongue..
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