BLOOM
Flourishing in red
Blessed in the blood of thy woman
Summing thy pain while a man contemplates thy birth
Frail thy knees, praising a God
Inglorious soul
Hailing in thy shell, bright orange, half of the way to hell
Emerged in grief, a mere semblance of yourself
Underneath thy skin, the yellow sun shines bright, child
Weary the man or woman, the irony of being only a human
Despised
Or not
Overflowing puddles of suppressed tears in green pastures.
They dance the blues, in windy dunes, a quicksand of fools
A trapped limb won't cause thy to sink in disdain
Purple soul
Reborn in the remission of thy wounds
The child slowly blooms out of its roles
Daiane Marques
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.