Wayward moth,
Did you discover comfort
In the sun’s loving light?
Month: October 2022
Red-Dyed Sawdust
I see her falseness.
She marked my hands
As much as I marked her.
Creations lays with sacrificial serenity.
Scratched edges and imperfect cracks
Tells a tale of paths I follow.
Hydra
Barbed blessings twist threaded
Truth. Cherry stains virgin lips;
A hope harbors calloused hands still.
Red Flower
Through smoky eyes and shaky hands,
Red flowers grew in metal tubes
In parking lots off 92.
The Sweeper
Bell jars neatly line le bureau.
Comets of passing time corked
Within frames withering.
Burn
Lies wait ahead to make our lives exciting.
A few hits of celestial rays gets my legs
Making moves. Burning the ground
Quench this fire in my mouth.
Sylvie's Portfolio 