Seafoam and Sirens
Poetry By, J. M. Lilin
Canvas of an unrecognized willow trunk.
Droplets of rain given up on by the sky canopy.
Colored veins of a painting never finished.
A story blotted out with desolated ink.
Projects buried and unremembered upon.
Crafts beneath the shelfs down each isle.
A yard full of pieces and parts, torn and engraved.
Each part described between life and death.
Most lost in wondering doubts.
How I love those pieces of the world.
How I love the peculiar and strange.
I choose the side of loneliness and favor the villain.
If the sky was always bright, the stars would never come out.
For when there is both a vivid star and an eclipsed moon.
For when there is both, there is nothing plain any longer.
There is no longer just the safe, shallow end.
Instead there is an ocean beckoning us forth.
Dreams and nightmares or sea foam and sirens.
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