In vernal gardens
I walk with Sappho
given seclusive secrets
in given purpose
our sandalled feet
lulling into faint lava
I speak with Kahlo
ask her about the wounded deer
ploughing into piercing
dark sighs leaking
from her corset spine
thorns will bleed
holding Vincents left ear
blowing dried cadmium
into blooming sunflowers
in ink blotted dark
silence is scalped
three fold artisan
ten fold silence
onlyÂ
the white
linen
canvas
knows
March 2025
copyrights CB
all rights reserved
