I don’t know if there’s hope
When friend turns foe
I don’t know
Where in separation
Yoke and embryo
Glistening placenta gouache
The painter may
Render this potential life
Legacy of strife
In verdant whisker
I could have been born
Elsewhere
Or not
Chemistry
Cellular change
Alchemists with tears as
Coat of arms
We consume tangerines
The smell of orange rind
And cloves
Seasonal with moth holes
Moses climbs from his wicker man
Escaping the fire
And disbelieved share
Their bronze debacle
Lend me the mahogany deep of your voice
Bringing me back
From kimono exile
Remember
I have no power
But the truth
Of nude vanquish
Attributed to
Low lamps, proffered incense
Summoning believers
In thin macintosh bones
We are rubric
To gardens
In the rain
Bird baths for those
Needful of absolution
This… this is what you do best, love:
“Lend me the mahogany deep of your voice
Bringing me back
From kimono exile
Remember
I have no power
But the truth
Of nude vanquish
Attributed to
Low lamps, proffered incense
Summoning believers”
Welcome back.
Candice, as ever I’ll not pretend to understand all, I simply know that each word it’s place, it’s flow makes this piece complete, whole – if I smoked I’d have a cigarette now – it’s that kind of feeling, satisfaction, you get reading this – my best to you for 2019.
Love this!
Reblogged this on The Phoenix Rises.
To persuade the innocent of need for absolution, there is a sin perhaps beyond absolution.
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – No power but the truth
Amaaaaaaaazing, seriously, you never fail to amaze me. Happy New year beauty!!
Wonderfully profound!
Oh man. I feel this.
I had to sleep on this one, and don’t really understand it – but, who cares? The language and the imagery are as lovely as ever.
Such a deeply and moving poetic canvas.
Reblogged this on and commented:
❤️❤️❤️