Oh Flora

And isnt it true that the blue is out of love and not deception? Perhaps it was only a game of perception.

But Im running towards you and not away, obeying that which has been dedicated with only an idea of what I believe is truth without the doubt, paranoia and comfort of the lie. The soul sings my heart, wrapping around the thorns encompassing their ridges and ingesting their blood. Oh beautiful landscape, oh my earth without wings, how I travel your veins, how Ive known your bosom, how Ive experienced the deepest of pains but healed with the greatest of your joys.

My heart declares your glory oh flora. I discovered your rooms behind the cellar door with a key tucked in my bed, always there, only for me. The radio skips and and repeats, his voice, I follow along. My hands carry the wisdom, my mouth recites the past, my fingers remember the pain, the words redeem it all. Glorious redemption, unending renewal. Water reveal my thoughts, take them, travel, move, heal, speak.

I know and shall be known. I speak and have spoken,
I travel on for these heart pieces are broken.

Remember this day, this hour, this change. Remember what is so easily forgotten. Forget what matters least. Heal, interpret, defy, obliterate the literate.

J.M. Prater