Pink moon

Full moon casts

no shadow, pulls

 

water from our cells

leaving only madness.

 

No shadow on

a purple lawn

 

tulips eerie white

in the lamp light

 

night memory

haunts me.

 

Room sweats

blossom’s orange bloom

 

Mediterranean tresses.

Fingers of the East

 

pull me towards

another dawn

 

rocked in Earth’s

crucible.

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