Kiss kisses, on the cloud of no return
Drop dropped, into the terrible sea of taciturn
Washed up, on the island of no one and see
Plants planted for anyone.
Love loved, by the storm of devotion
Rain rains, all over the hills of desperation
Open a bottle, appeals woven in verse
Words written for anyone.
Fines found, swept up by a palm broom
Sands sound, crunching into soft stones by the isolate
Binds bound, hear now, Master of the Mast, Captain of the Sea
Your journey flashed before your eyes
Warm oceans of destruction
Calm waters of contempt
End of the world, today
Rest of your life lived tomorrow.
About Me
- Leila Rousseau
- Constant complainer, effervescent explainer, road rager, mostly moody, joke laugher, make believer, neverender, air breather and happy if you allow me. This is the incomplete scrapbook of Leila Rousseau's modernly artistic scrapings. Nothing is clear and nothing is really here. We can't all be inspired, and we can't all be interested. Be humble to knowledge, as it will always be greater and more fierce than ego and explanation. Everything here is my own, but I wonder whose I am. So I could pass on the credit, when I might make someone giggle, a little.
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