Tuesday, April 3, 2018

NaPoWriMo Day 4: Chaos


A hologram grows difficult
Music becomes red, red becomes human
She played the banjo and violin
The thin line of logic separates
As the butterfly from the chrysalis
Your eyes deceive into universe
The blast and the suck, stars die
Music plays on, our capillaries grow
Difficult and gold becomes human
She sang a Sousa march in the church
And one day we’ll walk into the sun
And believe our mother ironed
Our bed sheets with her love,
But we’ll find she had a tool
That heated and cooled
But it too died like the stars
She too died like the stars
Her music no longer human
a black hole nothing feels like


No comments:

Post a Comment