Poison Posed as Perfection by EmaciatedandEpitaphs, literature
Literature
Poison Posed as Perfection
i.
Would you listen even if I told you?
A gasoline puddle reflects the sky in a kaleidoscope of swirl-smeared color, rainbow whorls distorting the image into an obscene depiction. And though I've heard claims about accuracy and intention, I've come to view these puddles as shallow representations.
If I gave you a mirror could you gaze into it and look for more than just yourself?
ii.
Honestly, I tried.
Yes, my words are polished, but when was the last time you cared? You're the one who taught me to paint primroses amid the Mojave. You seemed to prefer overbearing fragrances over my soil preaching statements of aridity and honesty. Then
Once upon a day did I see,
a clear blue sky and clouds so free.
Shining, shimmering as the Sun flew by
I began to wonder more about that clear blue sky.
Then, suddenly, turned blind in the now sunless air,
I felt fear and sadness, and I pondered where
The sun had left, fallen behind the hills
It had left me in the dark, with simply cold chills.
Perhaps, I thought, that there need be something new
I considered an idea, one that made two.
The Moon was its name, to reflect the Sun,
a symbol of morning yet to come.
I grabbed a brush and started to paint,
a new thing for the sky that would be so quaint.
A stroke of yellow, a stroke of white
I
the morning light slants
all golden and violet,
color radiates
all through my geraniums,
never to be picked,
only to be admired,
while we walk through the garden