3 Sisters sit in my perfect purple room like angels sent to watch the sleepy moon.
2 Sisters sit by the top of my head between golden suns. They sit, tall and majestic, like beautiful black nuns.
Nuns??? Like angels, you mean? Or better yet, like...
Goddesses of my dreams.
For perched high above the sadness of the world below. My thoughts, my dreams, my fears...only they truely know.
1 Sister sits by the foot of my bed. She calls to her sisters, "Please, tell me the thoughts from her head!"
For though I sit watching the curtains play, seeing the frog and the turtle and the trees as they sway,
She is silent to me.
It's lonely out here.
How I long to be...
With my sisters between the golden suns like Goddesses of her Dreams.
"Oh, sweet sister can't you see, you're much more than just the last of us three!"
For though at the top of her head we may be the goddesses of her dreams,
From your perch at teh foot of her bed, it is in your eyes that she sees the sun rise.
YOU ARE READING
The Subtle Taste of Midnight
RandomMidnight. The Witching Hour. The time when dreams come a-calling, whether or not you're asleep. TSTM is a collection of poems, short stories, musings, night owl rants, and whatever bullshit my sleep-deprived mind can cobble together before the sun r...
