It took a heartbreak
to spill my art
into cloud forms.
Fog, stratus, cumulonimbus,
I laid down the foundations
of my own mythology
where I lull my woes into sleep
with my Spartan mouth.
It was like an island in the sky,
which you pointed out,
you saw the signs, another Magellan.
But I was quick enough,
my nakedness was covered in dew
my abstract body stirred something
inside your mind.
It took you days to navigate through the fog
claiming you found
what you found.
Haughty enough, circles don't have beginnings nor end
still you can't reach the horizon,
nor the clouds,
claims can be harsh these days,
but I will sue you with rain.
YOU ARE READING
Live
PoetryOur hearts are brave as fire, minds gentle as earth, dreams are fluid as water, and our souls are as free as the wind. (Poetry and Prose) #2 of the end-live-begin trilogy.
