moon trine jupiter

dreams are flowers
unfolded by the fingers
of coloured motion

tossed upon our nights
they leave their marks
on the insides of our souls

a brush in the sands of time
shifting memories

the tiniest drop of blood
in place of the rose

a scent beyond
all those days

yet unnamed

~

words: Dorothee Lang, Germany (blueprint21)
photo: Chris Kryzanek, Oregon (monkeyinabox)