ribbons and the renaissance (the trembling chrysalis)
Have you ever felt like white satin ribbons drifting down toward the grass?
I don't mean cut or torn or falling or lost, or aimless.
Just white satin ribbons, rippling, shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight and silence to land on the grass.
It's not depression.
only silence, and sometimes silence and lack of punctuation are good things
along with cigars made of bubble gum and laughter, and babies who dance with sleepers patterned with tiny multicolored pawprints on their heads in dimpled imitations of you doing the same thing
one minute, fourteen seconds: drift.
I don't mean cut or torn or falling or lost, or aimless.
Just white satin ribbons, rippling, shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight and silence to land on the grass.
It's not depression.
only silence, and sometimes silence and lack of punctuation are good things
along with cigars made of bubble gum and laughter, and babies who dance with sleepers patterned with tiny multicolored pawprints on their heads in dimpled imitations of you doing the same thing
one minute, fourteen seconds: drift.