Moth Lights
The grayest feelings
Fueled tin gas lamps
Into soft downy rusts
And for the heart damps
The bright ones
So the swaying
Is healthy
Quelled sometimes by
Visions of lovely earthiness
And blue skill
The pinprick is healthy
But felt split
Smoked out the Bright One
And several torches lit
To try and separate…
Lights to bring them together
Now we’re moths made of foil
Twin puddles in a loop of forest
One of oil
The second of water
Anything less
I’ll never forgive you
Anything less
We can’t push farther
Heterochromia
I would rather not explain. I never liked doing it before, but figured it would be good for critique. Don't mean to sound like a bigot, just don't like opening my mind/heart blatantly gonk
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Obsidian Froth
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