Mhm. Yes, Of Course

I’m still here. listening. I’m not

sorry

oops, that’s overused. Tell me something

better. Sounds

good. Hmm, mhm. I’m listening

Yes, queen. Bees buzz

past my black, light

absorbing pupils like Face-

Time. Ring ring, rainbow wind

chimes. Listening to the unnamable birds with two tapping

thumbs on the screen. Blues. Feather


head. Tweet tweet. Look it up or down

scroll some more. Queen E bye bye


birdy. The throne is so blue from up


her(e) blue j-


ust like the sky. No one knows

why, we just daze on and forget to admire the canvas

as it alters

before our red, dormant volcano

eyes. Bedhead even when brushed

for the day. The realist


objects are responsibly writing themselves


outside of this plane’s flimsy limits.


Lavender air in spring or sapphire summer is just like a present

poetry collection (unfinished when on

view for the world), lemon scents inviting us

to scratch the surface, and land


upon golden pollen & & & this grand rising

of the chest can combat pollution if you would please

let it out w/out force, honey.

by Maria