“On the 12th day of Christmas the pine trees gave to me,
12 ancient dances lost because our coddled souls can’t follow their native rhythms
11 silver deserts, reflecting and magnifying the minds of wanderers so the stars can see the unfamiliar emotions that come from being lost
10 blue-green stones that appear over and over again, following me and disrupting my life because it’s been too long since I visited the sea
9 black-market meals, free of the custom pharmaceuticals and radioactive tracers that alert the establishment whenever we’ve been reading
8 night sky horses, wormhole hearts pumping plasma from an alien sun, dark matter hooves breaking flecks of gravity from the cobblestones
7 colors of an infrared spectrum, the palette of moonless nights and endless caves, invitation to an inner world that cowards leave behind
6 loyal lakes, awaiting orders to swallow my old life like Usher ruins, wash me of civilization’s electric dust, and build my castle of fog
4 minutes, sealed in acrylic, to be released in defiance of time itself when a perfect moment, one worth fighting to keep, threatens to end
3 new names, the true names by which I am called in dreams, so my heart can defend itself from the lonely horrors of that unwaking world
2 comet hearts, the spark of cosmic wildness still burning within, ready to escort myself and a guest in a hasty escape from the planet
And a chance to join their fabled ranks, to glimpse the mirror in Plato’s cave, and deny the truth no more loudly than the quiet pine trees”
-QuietPineTrees
baratheonpilled
origamiaround
kianamaiart
