Mercy, nourish the brilliance of my tarnished soul
the book of me is in my eyes, read with courageous love
the wind swept my hair as the lady bug flew from my hand
the sun and the moon
shine simultaneously beyond the pale
rotating wildly then dreadful silence
the water around the
does not let out until noon.
while the flies wait,
dirty fruit from last night poses.
the news has not changed
my image is wrinkled still.