she dressed
as a crow's wing
oil-black feathers
shimmering sapphire
myrtle viridian
a box
for my hand
positives illusive and pale
hung from low ceilings
whistling over whiskered coffee
Had I listened to the dark-side?
What do rainbows say
as they stroke the earth?
I confess, she came dressed
as an eagle's feather
inspiration condensating
in sparkles on her shoulder
I barely knew the ground
stars flashed past ever faster
giddy fingers nimble towards tomorrow
--
http://www.badstep.net/
"Hello Cleveland! Hello Cleveland!"
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