a second lament of conformity
immersion
a dreamers lament
of non-conformity
it is from ourselves we run
a travelers lament
soft looks good on you
softer and softer, herein lies my strength
slow burns
of incandescent lovers
sweets for you, my love
of the romance of reluctant lovers
– of volcanic hearths
of smouldering fires
i was taught to never make eye contact
- of everyday escapism
amidst the smoke, drums and fire- heal, I plead.
prose and verse on intergenerational trauma and healing
mamello.art 