I chase after you in my dreams –
running & rooted,
“Dit is niet vrij! It’s your spot, darling.”
While you trot on –
careless & carefree,
whistling your perfect whistle
and swallowing my voice
into the formidable darkness.
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I chase after you in my dreams –
running & rooted,
“Dit is niet vrij! It’s your spot, darling.”
While you trot on –
careless & carefree,
whistling your perfect whistle
and swallowing my voice
into the formidable darkness.
You –
bright, warm mass
the bearer of light
atop your high pedestal you hang.
Bane of the earth –
the ground you strut upon
cracks.
Fortune Me –
fortune me. Fortune Tree.
Boon of my soul –
for my crimson sail blooms
and my branches reach for you.
Fear the creature!
Half-man, half-beast.
Look –
feast your eyes upon her!
The Pulchritude
you cannot see
hiding behind reflections.
There she is.
And now she’s not.
Hide her
Deny her
Tame her!
Quiet now,
make no impress.
Hush, hush.