Kop Raas ( Audio Collab with Miss_Sub)

 

Some leaves fall
in fall. Some are
evergreen. Some
leaves speak in
tongues; tongues
of an ancient love
based around the
globe. Some leaves
grow in spring,
an infant beginning
(a fresh love spoken
through walls & doors
& even windows, somedays)

Some grow from ink blots,
Rorschach fantasies melded
into continents, bonded closely
to pull echoes to their knees.
Some bury themselves
in Lazarus miracles,
knots of wood and bone
crawling under the skin-
etched with knowing,
pained in the telling
(it was declared in glass,
and the house creaks
in absence when night
runs dry)

grass blades of green
& tender summer stars
spell grammatical
annotations
in unsuspecting pages
amongst empty journals
& ballads sung
to magicians,
Rothschild &
Shroder in
busy rooms of
butterfly cocoons
(hands held in loving
words, phrases &
rhythms of
dreams in gold
thread)

communion in blue caves
shielded from phantasm eyes,
beckoning fingers, a tapping
of keys and melodies
filling silence with suspicion-
the door is open,
windows stillborn
(wildflowers still dance
under burdens of years;
darling, all we've got
is time)




Thank you Missy Miss, it was a privilege and honour to work with you again.