Kirsche Dawn, Captcha

Kirsche Dawn, Captcha prose poem

Kirsche Dawn, Captcha prose poemUploaded by boetiane

I know not whether it was of ginger, berry or bergamot _it was fabric and she wore it instantly like a shimmer_ voluptuous almond ‘vollmond’ of gothic ‘purpur’, voice creature telling glow-in-the-dark lies _beautiful. Entering. Barrel organ unravelled and chimes and simple drums with tall figures of inexplicable men drilling twilight & milk into the pretty petal pink girl_ of creased up silk & broken curl. Dialling. Roamland. Didn’t fragments of barytone lipstick melt ? Kermes funfair fraying a womb or a disembowelled sky, its swooning light _dark shoal of sounds, she_ drawing to herself a Cocteau Twin puppet in a sort of life-like security blanket. Belonging. ‘Lila’ apprentice with a different frock_ drama dress of merry-go-round plots, ‘karussell’ gown worn back to front & inside out twirling & whirling into some hypnotic cathedral-head waxing to towering heights. A cherry bird sat on my spicy hand, started a deep, dark choir along with my inner chirpers upstairs. I inhaled. Captcha & kirsche dawn. A dream-cell unhinged and I drifted in _ afloat & truly parallel

Poet’s Note: The calligram image for this piece is available on boetiane.com

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i'm a little French, sometimes a little English / i mix up colours, languages & places, conjuring up words of an uncanny nature / i love alternative art _______ & people with quirky dreams
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