Into The Summer
Her hands are painting bodies of waterCurtains hanging, daylight fading
Fingers bleeding red and blue,
Colors framing contours of the Night
Shaping into plasmic fires burning soft as a caress
Dissolving into a clutch of shadows,
Her eyes are clear as a tear
Falling over a liquid edge
Ragged, smooth sighs,
Escape the cold of prison thoughts
Bars blending into the summer
Canvas comes to life,
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2022-02-05 at 00:11
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