Thursday, June 3, 2010

feathered blues and colored hues

a safe keep box hidden beneath the surface
a buried treasure
a carrier of red rubies that flow through the skin
baring us with the greatest gift

Windows into the past, time machines
photographs that have been branded into the skin
forever there as a reminder

Stained glass windows into our souls
the only voice that speaks truth through liquid salt

an opening, an entrance to the core
like the eye of the storm
raining out spews of deceit and fairy tales
a storm that can swallow you whole with every word

the only thing holding us together at all times
a cage
locking in every truth we twist and every lie we grew into mountains
holding onto our valuables.

A ladder, a column that helps us stand straight
something everyone was born with
but doesn't seem to have one or use it
a hopeless wreck that any of us have yet to discover

You and I -
art, a masterpiece life created before us
a single moment in history and time
but the world through our very eyes
we're magicians, soldiers of love, actors, and liars
we are all just another thing to lose

Flowers that form beneath my skin
the ugly aftermath of a natural beauty
molded yellows, heathery grays, deep purples

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