5:56 am

Sat, 08/31/2019 - 21:17 -- avavav

my favorite hour

reigns over a small woody world;

where trees shiver in their pools of blue,

where the sky yawns to reveal her pale yellow mouth,

and where each piece of white glitter

falls asleep without the moon’s shine.

the air’s black filter begins to fade and blur into a drowsy mirage.

my eyes fade and blur into a drowsy state of mind.

but a broad ray of light peeks from the sky’s throat,

and there i can see the sun

sitting within the depths behind her

soft ivory gums.

despite how much i’d love to talk to her for longer,

the sky always submits into her common blue state

whenever the sun awakes.

that’s the moment i sit back

and watch that blinding star

rise and stretch,

pry through the sky’s baby blue teeth,

burn our world,

scorch our skins,

and dance raw red with dry weeds.

he never gets sick of it,

of all the things he does each day.

i can’t do anything

about his violence,

but god,

isn’t he just so


This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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