Sunday, February 7, 2016

Book of the Fallen Blood Moon



Chapter 2: Clown of the Moon

Time, the tree, saw the room like a transparent ghost
the one she vaporized, and a woman could be seen walking naked
betwixt the resonating city, belted by old wooden floor boards that yellow squeaked
a shimmering heat wave mimicked the antipodean sun
there was no sound

Above the wooden desk an endless albescence coated the dirty milk sky
nobody spoke for fear of a little ufo on its surface, glaring with whiteness
the floor and silence filled the space with time
there was dried blood and madness on the leaves
influencing the imperceptible waves

In somebody’s summer dream the wind blew hot
there was a boat floating by on a softly warm day mirror
it looked to be one entire entity lying floated and gently tossed
the water was smooth as death and named sound, green cold and alive
it clandestinely bowed in a hollowed divot cut out of the earth

Blameless and caressed from shore to shore
the soft wave barely moved, but when it did the mass uttered a kiss
and as one, the mud colored fluid seemed a shuddering aliveness
from inside gravities lustful spurious flame
intent on existing forever

The water
metallic, metamorphic, protean
it possessed the small green boat, black sail folded into sleep
staring at the sky with her back to a mirror
a young girl of eleven was sitting in the curved prow of  her “good reason”

Her hair swirling in vision the mast without sail
she was growling a guttural animal noise her eyes closed
a book called the seven sisters with an old leather cover etched in symbols
fluttered its pages and sporadically covered her face, free from poisoned rules
she read at the book, stabbed at it and was irritated, bored and unsettled

She was a small metal thing with a jewel inside it
Showy and universal, it contained her within its mortal body
A green eyed monster, transient madness in a vessel of crumbs

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