Peaceful Chaos Hills

There were hills
And hills of grass.
Some prickly.
Other blades green.

Various visitors;
Rocks, pebbles.
Mushrooms.
Valley of sorts.

Alternating
Left, right, overlapping.
Boundaries overlapping.
Hills and hills.

Patience Smalls

Grand heat *cough*
Not sure what lays.
Stay, but don't stay.
My little.
My small.
You can't have it all.

Catastrophe
of a belittled life.
But soon, just wait.
Not a fantasy,
but purple loosestrife;
jutting out, standing.

Our turn is coming,
just keep running.
Through the sticks
*poke poke*
damaged ankles
for a clear mind.

Reflected

Dream of wisps
Crisps, refreshing.
Your smile, your laugh.
Oh wow that laugh.

A toy is a marble.
Ever polished, cloudy.
Rolling in your palm,
Comforting.
Sketch in plaster,
My music master.

That laugh, love.
You strum on a clear,
A first yellow spill
Into me
Atmosphere.

Wide awake, into the stars
Of my reflected smiles.
For miles, and miles.
Shakespeare was wrong;
No ravens, no doves.
Just love. For you just love.

Beautiful Destruction

Juiced and pumped,
Filled with extras.
Focus is fogged, clogged.

Smile for two.
What's real, what's true.
Squint to see, be me.

I know it so grand.
I can see
beautiful destruction.

Fabrics

Weighted words of strings, fabrics.
Unraveled, insignificant.
Part of a long threaded story
pleasant, gory.
Sarcastic, dramatic.
Sometimes elastic.

Smothering me, blanketed
ever with gaps;
shreds.
Of words weighted
unraveled.
Fabric of scraps.

Open wounds of a vowel,
scabs of a shredded consonant.
threaded, long.
Such a story.
Pleasant, fowl.
Useless, but prominent.

Fabric of strings,
sounds of fabric.
Loud, repetitive.
Itchy, stretchy, futile.
But...
I have nothing else to wear.