Some days smell like
Freedom.
I was with a bad (hu)man for
Far too long.
Often heated,
Bad habits, scarring and some
Evil-
Bloody mess...
Honest, my guts
torn asunder
then more
Limbo, a sense of
Death...
Dante,
One could say-
Then
In some particular way
the sun felt extra good today,
Felt my skin thirsting and gulping
every atom, warm and
Yum...
Like a perfectly ripe peach
cannot be devoured without a
Smile.
Pure and True.
Each peach- the same and
Anew-
Even though, simplified
Into
As above, so it is
Below.
To grow or die
this time around
the Sun.
.
Painting by William Mason Brown (1828-1898), 'Peaches on a White Plate' c. 1880 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
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