Question time

Are you a plaything in the dark
while my heart slumbers,

an arrow’s flight that circuits strata
leaving thin white line,

won’t you give yourself the time
to breathe the scent of purple flower
melt thin icicles of doubt that blister leaf’s tendril.

Don’t you want to turn and shout it out
this galaxy glimpsed from supernova,

tear cocoon and split apart
dry dampened wings learn how to sing

as if this was the first love.

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