wipe in the walls of my house
dealing with disordered silk
a morose wreath day
with the congealing salts.
Come with me to the loss of life of belts
using its tremulous create
This windy warmth of your body and carrying serenity fortifies me
with it’s sanguine wells like heart and brow
and rough waves like brow and roses
I want you to light about my hand
amid the transparent streak of the lightning.
The Blogging of Marchelle 975 