Ash is tumbling cloud-like from the sky;
dulling our freckles and filling our mouths,
the bitter taste of betrayal without a name.
It swells, ink in the sea,
permeating every inch of blue.
Until – you sing,
make up the words as you go along.
The ash settles and flowers bloom
in the heart with soot sodden walls;
the letters trace their fingertips
through the dark and draw a smile:
the world isn’t ending, after all.
Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019
ace.
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Thanks ☺️
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Nice!😀
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Thank you 💛💛💛
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You’re welcome 😊
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