Scenick coll.1 f4

Call me a skeptic,

but when a blue sun

shines on a purple mud.

Believe you me

I can sing me

a come undone hum.

Then I can dance to the rhythm of

the beat of a wind

where I can almost see the grain

from its reign.

And will I sail on the idea,

where the idyllic love 

where men sail

the air of Cassiopeia 

to the shores of 

Orion’s tail.

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