This could be lollipop poetry –
it could be a dozen rainbow colors
entwined in your threadless hair
or a blatant juggernaut
throwing danger into the thin desert air.
I daren’t dream of some poetry,
the type that turns your guts into van Gogh
and makes you wonder if you’re seeing dazzling
halos around the spirits of the world
- the type that makes you think twice
about the flaxen strings of lies our lives
are made of,
of what beauty we deceive ourselves of,
and what truth is left when
we boil away countless
empty imposters.
Adding your comment: