B L O O MING

Cypress

The lesser of the two conformed to depletion; like dead flies against window pane, tressed in immortal blood.

Seeping in the divinity of a weeping willow, pensively dreading deeper into the nostalgic core of innate soil,

Weaving in the nutrients of cotton picked forms.

Soggy grass sloshed against the winds of egregious claws.
Hollow eyes, desolate minds.

Screams of large malevolent birds cowering from the talons of grass soaked in the blood of rotting flesh,
Gluttonous desire to the beauty of immortality

Cupressus/

Desolate minds think alike
When two becomes two
One becomes three