Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Poison #3, l'heure verte



He ordered another absinthe,

straight,

swirling his thoughts

into a dream-like state,

hypnogogic,

walking the seam

to a place

he's journeyed

before, in between,

the 13th floor,

existing only for those who cross

the tightrope without a net,

sip the brew

that creates sunless clouds,

sometimes they pass,

other times, they consume.




graphics courtesy of Polyvore







l'heure verte

l'heure verte