shaded orchids bathing in the moonlight
stars dripping with sadness
onto moist grounds
by the looks of it as
bitterness and happiness
remains the same
and the land is untouched and untamed
with greasy mens hands.
cries of horror lurk in the trees,
and so I ask where are the rest of these?
as i hold out my encrusted hand of dead skine and in it lies a poppy as blue as the ocean which cries out are you...






There?