I’ll never unsee you, she says.
Desiring for a moonflower
In a barred mist fog
An Unbound cube
The pattern is chaos.
Then falling faster toward potential, or mass,
To settle upon a velvet leaf
Perfect potential is green.
An Unfurling tendril
A color with no name
A natural satisfaction.
I know you know, and so do I.
The mysteries of our construct
Space no matter for symmetry
Distance no heed for data
Entangled, the singing stars
Ours
Moonflower
featured in the poetry forum January 25, 2021 :: 0 commentsMates in moon and flower and all. – mh clay