can't breathe, can't function
wonder would (we/us) fathom
behind the scratched lens
of night prowling,
red hare's smile
is stinging echoes
and is shadows.
red hare is taking
down the tinsel tensions
and light ligatures
of boiling spoons and
ignore-cinnamon sticks stuck
between she-ing the
lipstick stained goddess,
-burn, blister, lick-
prides herself on opportunistic flair
green gleam eyes
float on occasional orange moods...
(17th December 2013)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poetry"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
