Splendor

The rays of the moon in my dance,
Lethal spillage of color.

I’m short on butterflies.
The hypocrites are barely saved.

When I lose my voice
Splendor will smell me.

Saturday-
Closed water storage area.

WIP 9th Letter

The yellow letter
Number 9
I can’t fathom the more dangerous work.

In my dressing pocket,
It’s a yellow nine.

I get my pancakes with extra syrup
When my husband makes breakfast.

I understand the shape of my body.
It is large and unrestricted.
And to come upon desire
With a desire for hidden light
Is to make lemonade in sum.

Daffodil,
Cream,
Egg yolk,
1980s hotpants
All 9 of my colors are yellow.

One book is very simple,
Don’t take 90 years to decide.

Taking emotional plans,
Airplanes,
And you’ve gone over the edge with my name.