Orbit

My image of you:

A marble in orbit

around the ballroom floor

like a smiling astronaut

trying not to panic in a locked up space.

Gloom and doom, together in the endless land,

escape.

Only,

you are in a locked up space and your legs,

they run in place.

My image of you:

A silver horse, a cosmic gallop

around the sun in a metallic chariot

trying not to panic

in the feverish space.

Gloom and doom, together in bedazzled illusion.

Only,

you are in a feverish place

and your reins, they imprison your face. haber-1

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Red Sky at Night…

Rust red smear below your eye,

must be a tribal mark

of the blood wolf

or thirsty vampire

who hides in a coffin

things he carries.

Poppy red dots, liquefied lady bugs,

Morse code on your pillow

permanent S.O.S

of an internal war

that only wants the white flag

raised to the light.

hue