Trumpets

You were Right
by my side
with your wings spread
and your grin-faced Head!
The tiniest gray imperfections wrinkle through my belly.
Thin hairs are plucked,
dipped in ink,
swirled on a clean page,
creating the dots that'll be used for connecting
at a later date.
I have something to say, in quotations.

The Prophecy has come, Dear You!

I wonder sometimes
if the sounds
I think are figments of my imagination
are your sparkling diamonds,
cutting close to the bone;
so close, carved out of Gold.

Prophecy found the matter of this deja-vou:

Repunzel, I am, with a strawberry Blond
lock for you to caterpillar up.
Up: if you ever find me clenching my heart
or attacking anemia, panicking...
Love, We
could
dance!
in the streets of Paradise,
breathing steadily
rhythmically two-stepping, to our own way(out
of this two dimensional scene)ward lyric.