Lucid in the diamond sky


As eyebrow clouds are crushed by blue pressure the gushing rain will swap saliva with my eyes: drizzle drops perk up on top of my pupil. Telescopic kaleidoscope. I can see the way I say the things that spray out distant but beautiful, so beautiful two rose petals float subtly over my crayons yellow coat. I'm a kid. My heart is my heart’s. Reaching like a vine I clasp the petals’ wet and burgundy suede and with morning stretch pleasure I crush them in prayer.


Ryan is a player of words.

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