calligraphy

I read phosphenes like a teller reads tea leaves, spinning inside eyelids, and motion daydreams. Colliding. Spilling atoms into third eye play schemes. A kaleidoscope. Rainbow footprints. Cloaks and daggers. Truth in spirit sittings.

Hard to breathe, let alone swallow. Memories ever. Green. Blue skies are hollow. My eyes well. Thinking about seasides. Seashells. Ocean waves. Melting sand. Edging out. Tears swell. There you stand. Barefoot. Smiling. Inviting me in. I’m too scared. To try new things.

Used to soothe. Papercuts. Stings like razor blades. Bring me closer to you. And further away. Your favourite thing. I’d rather hear you say. Than trying to pluck. A needle. From a fresh stack of hay. Pin points piercing skin. Constant ache of being.

It’s been so. Difficult. To express to. I can’t tell. And it only feels like yesterday. Since you. I remember to. Inhale. To ease my tired eyes. Wind chimes. For change.

Wishing I could take your place.