THE WHIM OF THE ACACIA.

I

THERE SHE IS AGAIN, 
THE GREENLY DEAD, 
YET DANCING AND TEASING.

THE SAME, SHAPED ON THE AWARNESS OF THE DOOR.

THE SAME ONE, 
WHO POINTED MY MOUTH AJAR.

BLINDED OF SUN AT A BEACHSIDE, 
BREATHLESS AND DUMB.

HATCHED A LIFE DENIED, 
BY THE AWAREWNESS OF A GOAT.

MY FORCED EYES, DIVERTED BY YOURS, 
BY  THOUSAND MUDDLE WHIMS.

BLACK SAND, YET WARM FROM THE LAVA’S DEAD, 
SHELTER OF MY COLDS.

HOW I THROW THE GREENLY DEATH?

AS THE ACACIA'S DEAD, 
AT YOUR FEET DESERTED.

THROUGH THE LADDER OF STONE, 
BLINDED, BY A NEWLY MOON.

I CAN NOT, I’LL TEAR IT FROM MY SOUL, 
 TO A GULLY THROWN.

TO THE SEA, FROM WHERE SHE CAME, 
FROM WHERE SHE’LL GO.

THE GREENLY DEAD, DRESSED IN WHITE.