It's Still Life

Nerves …

dance,
like the brilliance of an opal
in a sunset-coloured cloud,

or a phoenix
waiting out a hundred years,
knowing but one existence.

And when I can’t
see your face, I’ll trace your lips
with moon-winking eyes and

taste the energy
in your storm, like a cymbal’s
cathartic release, scrawling

the sky
like magic glass. And when
my soul is too heavy from

the elements,
I’ll empty myself into the stars
and unburden these bones.

PAD (Poem-a-Day Challenge) Day 4 with Prompt: “Nerves” Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.