You come out funny in all unearthly colors
The rainbow pours from its small-sized pockets,
From high to low, in a deadpan self-portrait
Of how you clowned your rowdy heart.
My human situation is the same as before-
I am running from the person I am chasing
And dining with dementia on occasions.
And it feels evil sneaks into my bones
As we share a glass of wine, numbing before desert.
Let us taste berries on a pristine mouth, slowly,
Sliding under the table to unzip our smitten veins,
Before the air turns sour and we smell of helium.
Craft morphs into elegance ,style into substance and we are the ones inside the mirror looking out at ourselves.
Indeed, the mirror you hold back at my writing, makes me feel humble and hopeful. Thank you.
Great write, Fay
Thanks, my friend.
“Sliding under the table to unzip our smitten veins” I wish I had written that line…it captures the whole feeling of the poem for me.
Made me smile. I shall send them Muses your path.