they painted roses on her cheeks
and watered her azure eyes
to a sombre grey--
then kissed her and splattered
some periwinkle paint to rid
her of her fantastical reveries.
curse their winsomeness, curse
their delicate (sheathed) bouquets.
for their garden fell short of
withered petals one day--
inevitability prevailed
and destiny shone
like the bloom of a sunflower
on a sunkissed dawn.
the morn called to her as her eyes
set on a wreath of verdant green,
to hang from her stubby neck.
(a souvenir of her destruction, perhaps?)
but oh, her mother wailed
and her father mourned
and her siblings strived
to follow her to a parallel universe
where she wouldn't hang a
pretty doorway wreath
around her velveteen neck
and her flowery heart wouldn't transform
to mimic her reeking zombie breath.
+ + +
YOU ARE READING
ESOTERIC PHILOSOPHIES
Poetry-thoughts in the form of little rivulets that part from the undulating river of my cryptic mind in a poetic jumble of words- ~ e s o t e r i c p h i l o s o p h i e s ~ ©Aneet, August 2015 lowercase intended
