Sonnet #235

We bloom at night when nothing but moths

are pouring from the shadows, our perfume

calls all their tongues to dip into our womb

Where we hold ground and make, our worth

Is measured in the memories of souls

Where bent by us, the moon’s refraction,

With the gesture of our palms,concatenations

of our scents, intoxicate all strolls

with echoes in the air, our silent songs,

This scent of flowers shining from the bark

Where petals hidden pale and focused strong

to call the moths of midnight, they embark

in dreamlight off their hard cocoons, but not for long

We feed these shadow countries, cool and stark

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s