"let to mist"
my wane
I feel, no less,
this life—my pain
she makes sweet
her breathless kiss
on my drying lips,
the time my soul is let
to mists –'ere seed
burrow in and spring
flora upon me—my
mineral, my soil,
this, lightening, decay,
my shade
her labor holds my head …
a mother's embrace … touches my face—
I fail, uncaught, lapping through her gusty arms—
sifting through her ghostly hands …
let to mist
my airy living peace
Written By Darkest Angel
Written March 31, 2017
Ron