be fell

a dozen grappling insects    
work on small kingdoms    
  around their earth, arranging    
  her morning skirts into lichens—  
breathing least with darkness    
  as she-moths among stars;    
white seeds vanished in fire-light  
I tenderly slept, heard nothing    
  but water; remembered thoughts—     
the trees, perfect branches    
  birds by my bed; night pockets  
  took me – before something dark    
floated between luminous    
rose and river stone—   
at times, they    
  — all so full of doom—    
who had never thought:  
                     Do better—  
 fell back.
Written by Ahavati
Published | Edited 30th Jan 2019
Author's Note
[ Godawful ] Non-entry for the [ Demonic ] 'Poetic Medic #2: To the Poem's Rescue:
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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