Sunday, September 13, 2015

...Verge of a Cusp...

Edges illumed as they lay, burning on the cusps of thought
Tinder sparking warmless embers into the sky
Smoke smoke it moves through my outstretched fingers
Smelling of plastic and angry trees
Guiling on like egrets flowering their grey flat
Shall I cry the hue and rage and mark beginnings
That fail falter, richness folly
'was sollen wir aber constitiuents'
I breathe it in, the grey and the naught
The shifts that settle
Jaunty repose and recompense
Etherous
Illium
'dachte über alles'

edwardianjackal on DeviantArt

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