Foreign streams dribble through my landscape. A melancholy tadpole forgetting his vulnerability Floating tandem with an iridescent refraction of sun. Candles wane and sing their crackling song along the edge. Tempting shards of flame create a festive mirage. But silence wraps around my dance, igniting the ballet into a seemingly fleshless inspiration. I want so badly to say,dreams, when suddenly a taupe swallow with wordless beauty lights upon the tadpole in a wholly solid need for sustenance.
Reason for writing:
A first time subscriber here. Feedback is welcome. I wrote this about my dreamer type personality.
Birth sign: Not entered
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