Dreaming of lower

 

I have felt a flower

Crumble in my hands

Like falling manna in my mind

 

A god desist

As feet path-play

upon a sodden path

 

I've claimed an end

To soon,

too soon

 

Have left my sacred space

To linger in

another's den

 

Until then I had

never dreamt of

the margins of melody

The danger of allure

 

Ophelia lay upon her bed

Bedded by the blue

Until her head bent