An unfinished poem to my spring*
and to all the amazing things she is
Published in
1 min readApr 8, 2021
my mind wondered off this morning
never to come back again
took a free dive in the depths of her green
and has been breathing spring
ever since
Does green starve numb?
her green has stained my blindness
and now I can’t un-see
however hard I try
to forget how the life of her colors
felt on my death.
Does green cure black?
my blue held hands with her green
and now it won’t let go
I stumbled upon spring by mistake
she was hiding in plain sight
that of the blind
Does green paint light?
……………………
*Inhaling her spring, smells of addiction. I will keep adding to this poem while I undress her green and shall finish it when I get to her core.
She might just be a never ending piece of poetry.
