Streams of consciousness
Today, I say, I walk away, I play.
I decipher, pink Formica, cherry blossom, picture so golden.
What a rush, have a crush
Soothe the thirst, the dry tendrils that dangle, juice of mercy permeate the soul like a sponge to water suds of soap, cleanse the womb, the tomb, to fill, to fulfil, the desires of sin, yes, bring one back home to earth, the dearth of surrender of surrealism and splendour, colour and candour, mercy in Vancouver. childhood memory, turn back time, gaze into a wormhole and see the future through the eye of the infant past.
Complete? ponder, I wonder!
© Lara Rose 31/03/16