corruption

Dain­ty minds touch fresh
Drops of morn­ing dew
Upon the sands of flesh
Un­taint­ed, born new

Hushed ci­cadas warming
In the build­ing breeze
Their sirens as warning
Emit from sta­t­ic trees

White rose­bud parted
Ex­posed fra­grances soft
To the air, uncharted
Be­com­ings cast aloft

Mi­nus­cule de­bris trapped
in hazy num­bers belonging
Nowhere, spread­ing, overlapped
Plant the seed in longing

Fort­night rained, clar­i­ty untold
Dis­missed in shadows
un­num­bered rem­i­nis­cences unfold
Wa­ver­ing sen­ti­ments disclose 

as­pi­ra­tions silent­ly languish
Roots in­ten­tions cleft
Naive blos­soms in anguish
Autumn’s beau­ty bereft
 
 

—aman­da maurer

Flom­mist Aman­da Mau­r­er likes art and bugs. She is also an in­tro­vert­ed artist with a lot to say. Heavy tea drinker. Finds joy in sim­ple as­pects of life. Copy­right © 2017 Aman­da Maurer.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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