The Musings on the Sainthood of Altruism
The Musings on the Sainthood of Altruism
if you are dust
i will be ashes
in the field, a single crow
munching on an iris.
the flower.
the darkness of your eyes’s
sprouted outwards into outlands,
gushed into a clear, blue,
restless, cyan spiked sea
rubbed all over
by cinders.
to suck you down
is sin.
if you are ashes
well,
i am dust then
a glen in the east
foaming in the jaws
of yawning foxes
in some stranger’s dream.
forgetting.
forgiving because there was truly never
anything to forgive,
whispering a lullaby
gently; to the marigold,
windows shaded by curtains.
the full moon
emerging from the naval
goodnight to a goodmorning
signed in lips
and chaffing
and against the skyscrapers
and you are
that dust
i am ashes
I. am. ashes.
*Including in first hosted prompt of Sunday Confessional at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Color me in Cyanide and Cherry 
Love the way you turned the message around. xx
Thank you, glad you enjoyed reading and hope you have a lovely day ❤
Have a fab weekend, Oloriel! ❤
You, as well! 🙂 Spent mine learning how to make madras curry with chapati bread.
Reblogged this on Nelsapy.
Thank you very much for the reblog!
Very elegant, the words beautiful. I wish I had written something like this. Have a good day.
Thank you so much for reading and leaving me a word of your own, looking forward to reading your writing as well and I hope your day is lovely!
Beautiful and melancholy. The imagery lingers and is haunting and tender at the same time.
Thank you, I love it when you put it as “haunting and tender”.