Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap
The herald of the morning breaks
through the deep ink
of needle pricked indigo,
scented sharp, angular,
amid the spherical savor
of deep rooted, red, earth.
Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap
The roots twined into your name,
shielded by the golden hush of dawn,
dancing through komorebi,
a Renoir from another land...
another time.
Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap - Tap
Kitsutsuki is knocking...
the call of a whisp?
fate? no...
expectance...
begging yet another errand
of a girl
who 'happily ever after'
left in rags.
Tap...
Tap...
crack...
Glass shatters.
She will never sleep under ceilings
again.
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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