the flower king
sandbeds and the third eye
romping through the countryside
a taken beast, a fleeting touch,
and lilting eyes, as the sun blazed golden on
the waves drowned as they pulled ashore
fishes crammed into the sides of tanks
like sharks in the fleshy deep
but you turned left
and the curtain rose to meet the sun
but you turned again
and the corridors led to dead ends
we stood in the room of mirrors
staring at the sunlight through the window
reflecting on the dusky floor
on the images of days
there shone a blueprint
it was the bounds of sense
like a child grasping at light
you reached for the image in the mirror
but all you saw was your reaching
all you touched was the light
No comments:
Post a Comment