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
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”.