Outlaw Poet's Weekly Contest entry |
| There are no islands. Even water spins, attached to land, around the sun - a pin of light poked through uncounted universes’ heavy curtains, dark & mystic. There are no mountains. Unreachable peaks are surface scratches below skies multiplied and squared, exposing permanence’s solid promises, sleek & meaningless. There are no oceans. Artist pallet’s pool of blue neighbors color infinite, awash; paintings as fleeting as moments just passed: flowing & eternal. |