there is a place//a cyan paradisal for the different.
there is a boy and girl (sooted leaves for hair and oil for irises.)
there is the semblance of pragma (entangled myriad of a wilting sky and autumn bluebells. a symbolic representative)
and there is an argentum dent.
there's sadness so deep in this children that it tinges the ozone layer with a darker hue. their tears crystallize the stars and shape rosebuds with soft velvet, swirling zephyrs with spores of dandelions.
she'll try to smile, but he sees the seams in her words and tendrils of her phoenix hair. he'll try to smile, but there's an ache in his eyes and an ache in his heart, both invisible to the eye, yet to them, it's as tangible as acrylics stains on their fingers.
"if you die, i die."
oh pirouetting zephryos
oh, fiery icicle of the snow king's throne
oh, 75 eyed notos' earthquake of stifling heat
oh, beguilance of sun climbing euros.
thou are ripple's in their still-water,
a nag of hope, possibilities and a perhaps;
a what if?
but the clarity of their epiphanies
and their muses of breathless finality a top zenith caressing buildings of glass
: were they born to die
or dying to be born?
" tell me when you're ready."
petalled hyacinth of tears.
and they descend.
©
(slightly triggering.)
