Flowers from December arrived in May.
White was what they wore.
And to my surprise,
I asked them to stay.
A while later,
A dark luminous green little creeper
Sent me a letter about an abyss
Found in a house meant for September.
The pot on the stove started to hum
With an anxiety I had no control on.
The bubbles beat a rhythm
My heart had its mind on.
I did not know what to do.
Nor did I want to know either.
I let the flowers stay.
I sent the creeper no reply
And I let the pot break its clay.
And when June arrived
With her sun and her tide,
I gave her the house keys
And left for the seaside.
White was what they wore.
And to my surprise,
I asked them to stay.
A while later,
A dark luminous green little creeper
Sent me a letter about an abyss
Found in a house meant for September.
The pot on the stove started to hum
With an anxiety I had no control on.
The bubbles beat a rhythm
My heart had its mind on.
I did not know what to do.
Nor did I want to know either.
I let the flowers stay.
I sent the creeper no reply
And I let the pot break its clay.
And when June arrived
With her sun and her tide,
I gave her the house keys
And left for the seaside.
Comments
keep writing.