Saturday, September 10, 2011
Morose Wicked Rose Dream
My dingy, dark lashes lock on dust. I want clearer vision to stare at the moon in full view. I imagine a rose as large as the moon, blooming as it reflects the sunlight and collects all the moths to it's sensual pollen spores. Each moth will have collected too much pollen weighing their wings down that they fall fast to earth and burn up in the atmosphere. All this happens as I helplessly watch wishing the moths did not have to die, that from such a beautiful gigantic rose would induce this much strife to the moth population! Oh god make it stop! At that moment... I wake up.