dried seeds
from a dead flower
someone wants to swallow these
dried seeds
from a dead flower
a discordant melody sounds
from those dangerously elegant modern ruins
built of shards of glass, reflecting
a shattered moon upon ancient waters
dried seeds
ricochet off frozen ground
shredded ribbons of sunlight
ribbons that create a softly blinding nest
wrapped around her neck
a strong perfume
pushes most eyes closed
most eyes lack
lack the strength of desire
for dead flowers and
dried seeds
will you listen? Seedlings of Hearts:
understand my words
swallow my poems
then discard me
disdain me
all for growing better hearts
to become better poets
a collector
maybe even
a Genghis Khan of poets’ hearts
 |
| Croisements, by Thierry Mugny/ tchegg TM. via Couleurs. |
seeds are hearts, then inside creates the outside——
...all are in search of soundlessness
*(originally published on 22/May/2013)
