fire

my blue night has the disorder's smell
and the perverse silence
even when the voices are heard
in metaphoric algorithms… —

[and that’s so frenglishly cynical…]

lucky me because I’m beauty’s miracle, —
a performer
even in the sun
even in the shadow
attracting butterflies and Kolibri
transcending above any fears,
making darkness charming fire
with any of my joys… emanated


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