Firecolours Poem by Ella Veyes

The belly of the watchful:
Lays an acid frozen lake.
No fires in the iris flame,
So to blink and bring the quake.

The skin shed by the souless:
Like the still-born of a snake.
No nakedness of Heaven nude,
Should cease pray for its own sake.

What we never wish to tell,
Becomes whispers betwixt trees,
What we never sold for selling,
On a shelf scabs with disease.

A shock brought to its system,
Like the ocean to its knees.
In monotonous metronome,
It's my emptiness you please.

The wanten and the wanting,
Finding fate between the bricks.
In an abstinence of nothing,
We the broken feel the fix.

Hiding from your hologram
Of sight; a sense or six.
Guess what could be behind the glass
So to taste precious plastics.

Paint sunstroke; firecolours.
Free the time then take a piece.
Recall your mother by her name.
Let your chosen path for lease.

When stillness causes skin to crease
Who chooses then, the Ducks and Geese?