basking in the dark

you like to

smack those well polished lips

and adorn the colour of your hips

with shades of vitality

 – russet browns.

and you crave the crowns

of velvet-clad royalty

higher power

to reach all the stars you see.


but you care not for morality

or certain realities

you find only by idling.

hands – not poised for prayer

brush knots from your sun-kissed hair

and sweep messes

under a rug of ‘formality’.


then you stand atop it all,

with hips like leaves in fall

smacking your lips,

never wondering if there’s a difference

between what is right and wrong

but why would you if you always did belong?





2 thoughts on “basking in the dark

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