
That spicy black – a first class ticket in life – lost in liquorice.

That spicy black – a first class ticket in life – lost in liquorice.

Clouds whispering
trees in magical lighting listen
a new born branch.

In misty hazard
keeping attached to safe anchor
light so far away.

A quiet story – told by an open face – sealed with tears.

In dreaming petals
as sent from a generous sky
the wonder if you.

A love for curiosity
experiencing above and beyond
the taste in life.

Striving step by step
fighting a naked breath
cold as water.

So many crying hearts
stretching out desperate hands
like a captured feather.

Determined rays
just provided out of the blue
for every life to catch.

In the mirror
a captured vision of life
facing lost freedom.
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