slow erosion
a kind of gentle decadence
a small nudge
a decease so genuine
you feel compelled to be moved
the uncertainties, they glimmer through
a strange obsolescence
a look that locks you inside a moment
a lingering, arresting disparity
where from the bug has flown in
where all to will it find its way to
a subliminal glow assigned to this portion of earth
a wistful presence in the ingenuity of the moment
to be touched
caressed even
by the mere movements of the gentle breeze
to dream a drawl in the colour of
someone else’s dream
the earth the colour of a favourite flower
you lay there so morbid
a somber existence without a reason
your lips ajar breaking out at the bends
seeking to suck some air in
the air the colour of moist dreams
the air the colour of dey tears
the air weighing like three petals of a withering frangipani lilts for a while
your hair breezing with the drizzle
and ever so lightly the drops come
they sway with them the lonesome gray tear
the colour of your chipped nail paint
that the little finger can no longer hold
your gaze fixed transcendent on it
in the aloof steady pitchy sound of a tap dripping
where will the next blossom lay
the distant trepidation of it pokes at you
like from a tree an apricot falls
only too in love with the earth
waiting to be consumed wholly ripe
the crushed, trampled form of it
an ode to longing to belong...
https://youtu.be/ujyWIchaxuE
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