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A River Runs Through...At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. Mirrored waters reflect the horizon’s glow There’s nothing left for us here.A River Runs Through...
The vacant eyes of a small-town seer Are the only ones to know the river’s flow. At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear.
Sun sets like sun rises. There’s nothing to hear But a twisted bird’s crow. There’s nothing left for us here.
When there’s nothing but the river and me, I fear I should have learned long ago That at sunrise, everything is luminous but not clear.
Holding the memories of the night dear To
by ~chickenlittle
No, my child, it is I“I softly cooed in the dark to my dear “don’t worry, no, never worry.” I can take care of you. Those are my worries to deal with, because when one is your child, whimpering, soft, pathetic and perfect, then it becomes your duty to protect that one. It is always your duty, duty and love together. Not even INo, my child, it is I
can escape a force like that. I, who love all, I, who care for all. It is my love. It is my place to say no to the crying child. “Let me cry for you.” Then it is I who cries. When the child hears a voice in the night, it is my voice he hears. “Never fear, dear,” everything i
by ~chickenlittle
ConflictConflict is a little white room with green lights. I go there when I’m bad. Please leave your shoes, giggles, contents and loves At the door. Inside, the walls hummm; They’re talking, but much too busy for me. Somehow that wet leafy smell has gotten in. Orange and red flash uncontrollably in my brain. Must be this damn mind control collar. I think I’m going to be sick. First the air tastes acrid and smokey, Then it tastes like meringue. Something, someone, can’t make up her mind. The walls are rubbery, Frictiony, but not too much, never too much. But notConflict
by ~chickenlittle
My BabyMy rock is like a quartzy pink egg With cracks and faults, clean and smooth. When I tilt it, I see blurs. The big one looks like a rosy Mars, Foreign, alien and mysterious. Its cold shadow is punctuated by a peachy glimmer From this angle. The egg has gotten warmer. The rough spot on the surface has gotten dirtier. It is better now, This rock, this egg, My egg.My Baby
by ~chickenlittle
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thanks for the watch.
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Lunachick Designs: Gems, Metals & Maille
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