Explosions
Published in
Nov 21, 2020
Inside the explosions of the inner fight,
lay meager means of disposition, such as figments of imagination,
love conquers temptation, such that filaments remain threads of illusion,
laying on checkered floors popping pills to stay alive.
Inside the concubine remain fragments of the inwards,
popular contraptions beat grenades, where joined souls sketch their names,
outside fireflies occupy the night sky,
orchestras in the minor, major insights take precedence,
while inside is all that remains of a fragrant evolution.
Bewitched by the sap of amber trees,
your revolution becomes the prophet’s conclusion,
here you are, evolved and trained as night’s soldiers,
saviors and survivors of trauma, afflicted inside.
Anna Rozwadowska 2020
