Mourgana of the Fey

their blood bestowed

my love is bronze sky

interlacing garlands

being drawn

 

this pain/t is old

canvassing

amidst vertiver veil

I walk with Sappho

 

brushing blushing jargon

as she whispers names

into moving fountain pens

 

vessels torched

moving over spinal cords

lulling colors speak

where frequencies

are freed in their awakening state

Frida smiles from her burning bed

her ebony eyebrows lifting

 

holding Vincents left ear

under Prussian blue 

sun flowers reaching out

from their high stems 

left outgrown

in the garden of Etten

 

chasms untied

frailty sings

innocent

abysmal destinies

abandoned

sentient sentiments

 

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