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in a crinkledcherry haze
ruby sky reflecting on a freckledsunscreened face
dusk is driving me to somewhere I have never been before
hypnotized by the crinkledcherry haze
i am alone.
i am not alone.
sharp emerald blades stabbing chilled bare legs
wind howling and billowing
hair swirling and slapping against a freckledsunscreened face
an eternal quiet creeps over
the type of quiet that exists only in universal harmony
but the wind does not listen.
there is no harmony
the fingers of mistress ruby imprinting bare skin
nicotine yellow flecks on patches of freckledsunscreened face
fingerprints left in the form of pinhole dots on an otherwise bare canvas
wind
otherwise invisible
to the naked eye
becomes visible in the form of hair flapping
becomes visible in the form of leaves waving
becomes visible in the form of boughs bowing
everywhere around me, a cacophony
I am in the eye of the hurricane.
the sun
sliding down in a crinkledcherry haze
it does not rush
it does not hurry
it does take its sweet time.
how bittersweet the sun is
the burning of the sun by lady day
can be seen by all
drops of the sun light fires
orange and red
in the dreams of the doubtful
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