"Unachieve - Ment gone"
A rose with scissors at the brunch’s end,
A table on three legs –
Clay squeezed in hand.
Like the Springtide fragrantly
Blossoming blossoms the Rose.
Like salt lying upon
Cures the itch,
Caresses cheek bitterly.
In nine bends
Swans bow and bow.
Bow down. Touch the ground. Embrace.
I embrace. We embrace.
Rises into the air and the air seeps through them inside.
