Constant construction
monotone sunrise.
Give me but a chance
that breaks the frost
upon a freshly blossomed
chrysanthemum.
Around the garden,
unnaturally sugars flourish,
humans swallow much of it,
the air lacks in positivity because
of it. The siren sounded off
in residual incandescence
in literal fire no other then
the morphing tiger.
From tiger to dolphin,
to dolphin to giraffe,
black to white,
pure to dirty,
a muffled scream
and intruding humor...
have I got your eye
or
is it just this type of summer?
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