Blinded by the Phoenix
What remains
Walking single-file along the rim of a singular, seething eye — bubbling with desire for a peek inside— wanderlust occludes us from seeing the plume of smoke raging a shadow up above our backs.
While staring
into the basin of her acid lake —salivating on liquified emerald green — the nipple of Earth withdraws from sight — so we run for our lives — footprints mired in ash — flesh dripping in regret as we vanish from our parents eye, entombed in a starless night.
White island eruption
risen from the sea forever hoards these visions we cannot escape — cleaved to her breast with eyelids peeled (open) for all of eternity— emotions forged into obsidian — we are scattered into parts that got snuffed out and parts that still must breathe.
Breathe & Be Still ©2023
