bioxoid

bioxoid:mcull

Archive for Seasons

stillness

This quiet night after
last night’s rain is louder.

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Blossom

Oh Spring, you and your sprouts, your blossoming trees, your gaudy garish symbols of yourself. You’re no welcome guest in my heart’s red igloo; the perfume on your neck is so cheaply arousing; your manipulative chicks and babies. Your peacock crowing, your clamor, fanfare….oh Spring, clumsiest of all seasons, you proud beautiful idiot, I’m a blossom of shame when I love you.