Desire
A distant cloud caught my eye
I twisted it into cotton
Took a small straw
Poked the cloud at both ends, q-tip
For I needed to clean my mind
Thinking the best place to start, me ears
Gently twisted my edges of thought
Let the cloud transmorph from its cotton state
Pervasive the flow of unfolding fluff
Invading the folds of grey matter
Shaping my thoughts that shape the sky
Returning to your face in the clouds
From on the hill I lie staring up
That drifting image of you keeps catching my eye
Posted by Richard Handley at 11:15 PM
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