It's Love, Isn't It?(for Milan.i.e Richard's Crown, whoever she is)

ii.

Why don’t you talk to me? Coming of spring, the fall to
rid myself of you. Daisy pinks burning rubbish, square up black.
Apple country, white horses, the great lover to a young girl. A
poem about nothing, purple chaos dreams of Porirua Hospital,

Why lie here? Together in the dark colours. From a diary ‘79
you couldn’t be, brown peahen? Dream on good friday. Moods,
impunity, bad person to a young friend. My only woes, the conscience
of a queen. The way back, scribbling in the dark.

i.

The new house gift of dreams. Yellow moon, green vision of doves, the
Australian girl. Big game fishermen, after the storm aftermath, blew rain
in the fullness of time. A confession bee of anger. Absence, winter’s black letter love song for Ruby. Our water signs, high over the handlebars, all night Long after loving; roots bon voyage for Alison this morning at dawn. Four seasons: sea creatures, song, resistance tidal …

It's Love, Isn't It?(for Milan.i.e Richard's Crown, whoever she is)

hudson

Kingston Heights, New Zealand

  • Artwork Comments 4

Artwork Comments

  • Lisa  Jewell
  • hudson
  • Lisa  Jewell
  • hudson
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