A hand designed to write
showing the reversed
ability
to brush the teeth
with scrutiny
spreading sprout
of evil will
that I’m the cause of every cataclysm
happened to you
and to those around you
daring to take care of your overgrown garden
in the worst-case scenario
of nursing your dirty violent ashes
and sprinkling them on your grey soil
where you’ve decided to make some improvements
on the status quo
established long ago
before you have laid your eyes
on these childless bare walls
learned to screw with look and lock
of your long limonite hair
identifying enemy
in me
ruthlessly
*
27 May 2021
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Thank you for reading!
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
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