somewhere over texas

there broods a cloud; a dark, thunderous womb that spills protracted progeny whose locquacity the bawling infants are a brain away from apprehending; steeped as they always have been in the colours and not the hues; the shapes and not the volumes

somewhere over texas the legitmacy of your court is not recognised; a faintly smoldering carrousel holds more weight and balance than your phoney happenstantic scales

somewhere over texas there is a love who shies from ruling that of which she has but no choice

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4 Comments

  1. I am running out of clever things to say about how much I admire you…. sigh…

    Reply

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