The once subtle ground pushes insight forward
into indigo painted deserts flush with
distant dreams flashing as stars bound by
time's allusioned memory: lovingly, tragically,
delicately broken. Loneliness prickles like
desolate skin fractured by scorpion tales.
Rain feels welcome, dashing from eyes like
torn wounds singing violin longings to
celestial curtains dropping upon the scars of
history folded under clouded oasis springs.
Floods caress like aloe drops pooling among
clasped fingers, reviving the lusting Moon.
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