
I rise from the moments
scattered casually,
and where they laid,
my visions of prismatic
colours flourish,
fistfuls scattered like ashes
across grains of coloured sand,
away,
with the notice of eyes,
heavy judgement,
cataclysmic annulment,
these vivid pencils
so unpragmatic,
I know that
once in a while I must
soar further than I could previously rise,
purity is henceforth
an anomaly,
a broken token white rabbit,
sacrificial totem.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Masha Raymars on Pexels
Beautiful, beautiful, dear Lauren. Soaring are you, indeed. ❤❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jeff! ❤️ ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome, dear Lauren! 🥰
LikeLike