she wears a dress of stars

up at midnight up at dawn
shift-wearing shape-shifting
through a night of dreams and
words that write themselves
on the chalkboard walls of

blue and gold are the colors
of anarchy (or valor)
i cannot tell one from
the other in this toned
down version

of sanity but i know where
my heart is always easy
to find that loud obnoxious
whisperer {not}

that there’s anything to
hide in this corner with
sunrise always there

out of sight
perhaps but never

out of mind

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Stream of Consciousness Writing, join us!

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