I commune with it
speaking ecstatically in rays of brass
de-forming the shapes given--
the altitude we reached
the thinning and choking, we
I, felt like I wasn't alone.
A rigurgitation of leaves,
it happened, a cry
and then holding my breath in salt baths:
I reached it through violence, --and through
the desecration of my own garden:
sand around the flowers, wind
to know it better.
About the Creator
Avocado Nunzella BSc (Psych) -- M.A.P
Asterion, Jess, Avo, and all the other ghosts.
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Comments (2)
This was beautiful! I love how you used language here.
Fascinating poem. You definitely "commune with it" in this.