Redlight. Stop. Crush & Wonder.

Green paste

on leaves

leaving shadows

on the ground as they

pass by

flying

floating

lonely

but together

by a mighty

b r e e z e.

With nowhere to go

but all the forces

of the wind pushing

them

forward

God knows where.

And of all, they're

very so terribly scared.

Regardless of

compliance,

they regret

selfsame mistakes.

Over and over,

repeating the same

lines, two trains

of thought

never stopping

not even

for remorse.

Now,

inflated

the bubble trembles

and breaks their

outermost

of layers,

later transitioned

into spheres . . .

So they can fit

enough portals made

of emeralds

for Ancient Snakes

to thread.

Portions of the 

same gust

of summer air

pollutes

its presence

once again.

But the fabric

nevertheless

is solved as stolen.

And this turn

is nothing but a

portion

of a grain of sand in a

never-ending

Ocean.

 Golden strikes

of fire, made matter

by our hands.

Now contemplates

the sky, its ruler once they

break

the silence of starry

sheets of darkness

too cold

to toughen up

stitches

in the weird weird

Automobile

of

C  H  A  N  C  E