Friday, 17 April 2015


Complete in itself yet fractured, splintering light, reflecting this realm of nothingness, of dream work.
Your destruction reveals the archaeology of your heart – fury veined like a green and lilac bubble, serenity drawing the line and moving on.
Quantum clouds of chromophores drift quietly through the planes and interstitials of your imperfect jagged form. Dragged from the earth – yet you behave in accordance, do no harm.
Your flawed clarity keeps its secrets, reveals nothing; says ‘Just make a wish!’

The copyright of this post belongs to Clare Elstow

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