l.c. (nyodene_d) wrote,

i've always had daydreams of
calmly splayed across the open air
a smile sighing my relief as the
juggernaut of ephemeral life
awaits it's final thunderous yelp,
but they come to me only as
fantasies of escapism and
ruminations on self-pity.
i would never have the courage
to lie down in the indigo blossom
lined with felt poison-tipped needles
and patiently watch, stars circling the
celestial poles, as the petals
droop and sleepily wrap me
in a curtain of filaments and veins
within a darkness of eternal clouds.
this fog roils like the mysterious
sands in a cauldron,
horses roll on the ground before me
their manes pierce my eyes
then melt away
so many images--black hair swims
over my face, and suddenly the
dry mists are stained a bottomless brown
containing more fathoms than
an ebony field of fabric
i'm lost in that earth and clay and
i remember a solid reality
that clings me to life and
asks me only to dream
of the great unknowing inside me.
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