dream (returning hand in hand). – Lucy (Lucy’s Works)

Black feathers as I dreamed,
do not look at me; ebony moon
the lust of the body of the shore,
as nightmares, in what I’ve never
known at all, reflect the Artemis moon;
the fat, yellow moon; it’s a blood-hunt
to the red-hills,
and a sea,
cocktails of sweat
death at the ground.

There is beauty in the death of things
in imminent dreaming,
for it’s like death itself;

white fingers shutting
they shiver
to the cosmic
in between
veteran of psychosis
and leaves among the red
each one among the red
each one red; sands topple,
to astronomic bone
of his stardust.

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link: https://lucysworks.com/

First appeared on Free Verse Revolution.

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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