What the Storm Cries

A cry in elaborate forest

Storm’s luscious language fingering breast

Picture recalled:  pink, black and bluest

Sad bitter drunk, he plays love madly

“Stop,” I say, “the purple mist heaves us”.

©Lazul Brightwing/Sapphire Sparrow, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

http://play.magneticpoetry.com/poem/Original/kit/

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