Gliding


By atma anna christ.

The blue oh that blue dreaming blue diving could death be that transparent?
feather of the Egyptian Toth

The morning was sleeping in the deep blue sea then she woke up in the wind
Entered a capsule of the time of judgement
Broken bones for killing an embryo
rotting skin for rotting words
Watching this on a giant screen

Drinking her red wine anticipating a sleepless night
Wearing silver gown and her eyes flashing blue
the man waiting for her was someone from another planet
Looking at his face was a mirror she could see the sea

Mystery this horse race for the non initiates a let down
Death around my shoulder like pearls
and madness in your morning cappuccino…

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