I saw him one day peering through the fog as if the devil himself had parted a clearing
The sky was blue dream that tasted on my tongue like cherry spring
But he is crystal in my lung
Sharp without concern
Like lightning on a string
He don’t feel a thing
Was it revelation then or scorn?
Does he regret that I was born?
© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal
I thought that he was saving me from a miserable naked death on the street but he was just a sign post leading the way