Famed to be a flower, under the cliche of make believe of then a captive audience, perfumed to the desert berries, she ate at five, they ate with the seventh at five, then the departing stroke of hesitation would refill the cooling dusk. The spy going time depleted under the sway of a dune to swelter the heath of a pray in pray of the finite age: Belonging to the shelter of amber thoughts, a painted nursey play to gather of kindle, to the gathering of bones, to halcyon flowers as they combust step with steep, entering the pooling tide; shied black as the char of flame. The poured and the chalice, played rounding tables, ocher sands swept with garments, made in a niche cliche, wrapped in linen bordered the chalice ahold they husk their shaded through media sunsets. Persuasive as hide and lather, as dusk befell the dormant silence, distance shared the flowered berry, retweets were then captive for their pray, fortification healing the lands amassed to massacre those threatened by remaining vigil to quarter a vase.

2022 © Adam Blewett