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
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