eclipse Posted July 14, 2020 Share Posted July 14, 2020 Angel's imitate mannequins in closed shop windows, street signs wear masks. Corona caught me looking out of the bedroom window, the moon my visor. Was my reflection too close to the water on the lake I used to walk past, soil is too close to the thorns of the rose. I dreamt about a flower with glass thorns, voices of corona casualties echoing inside. Have angels attached the wrong umbilical cord. Spring demands fingerprints as winter walks on its hands, navigate the circuitous design of an architects plans. Attached to an umbilical cord I carried a mountain like a shell, victims of corona were silent as they fell, how thin the oxygen of dreams, how full the screams of grieving mothers. Corona brothers thieves who wear masks, autumn doesn't recognise spring in the stolen mirror they are carrying. From the hospital window in the fire bearing sky I can see corona's cunning speculative eye has allowed me to live. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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