[ Non-fiction : Prose/Poetry/ ]

These faint whispers became cymbals
clashing unseen demands in dreams;
To rise and awaken slum-
bering inner fiend. I jumped
against the bars, agitated
for change but only the sound
would escape from
a cricket in a cage

Your bird lips, double rainbows beam
on a summers day. Warm
eyes cocoa and cream with aura
bigger than the photograph
trying to capture
a vicarious being

That day, I felt feathers
fluttering in locks like
magnets to need
releasing me.
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