not creator — though i create her

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

i write calamities onto blank canvas and embed au revoir behind padlocks disguised as alliteration and indentations.

the tendency to vacate sits ribbonned throughout stanzas, and evocative antipathy of transcience stays freckled within prose.

vulnerable — not creator, though i create her; god in the most human form.

my saving grace, she is soft — pastel chenille, velvet bedspreads. teddy bear snuggles, silken satin pillowcases, firefly lights among cream-colored walls, moths stirring about fields of tickseed; the onset of relief when billowing smoke signals vanish to make way for serenity.

☼