Green blanket:
If I could lift you
these tufts of trees
could hide me from the sun,
and everything else that
seems to leave with plunderage.
These days have left me with nothing else to spare.
The pleasant skies,
and flights of birds
improvise
a bedroom of earthen
torment.
Windows of spider webbing...
Clover underpass..
I raced onto the bridges
of the moss hailed kingdom
sliding on the soft brushed fingertips
that bare my compunctious face.
If a greater demand was on the other side,
gesture a motion to bring me closer.
Then, you can't steal what is ready to be given up.
Inquest the fertile labyrinth.
It breathes on intoxication
blowing in cool winds of musical invitations.
I listened half-knowingly
to a second nature song
and wished it would have never ended.
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