billowing purple skies
imagine a sun
through bleachy
clouds no movement
along a smelling
beach, afternoon lethargy
fat off of sesame
oil, jabs of fish oil chap
the occasional tongue
the Sand is
voluptuous in reddening
nips for all that
we have loved, or
say, passes
time along the hairline
tired membranes could
pose their sleep
as pieces try their fit
the ocean skies:
goodnight, blue
1 comment:
Hi Uncle Stashoo!
It's me, Hay again...
Daddy misses you...
he says, sleep well
-Hay :)
Post a Comment