There are little lions in me
That paw and roar the skin,
That shift as sands,
Rolling lions that
Are arresting bodies
And setting them to
Sleep, are crouching low
And whispering,
Gaping maws wide
So to treat
Fireflies with a
Cavern dark,
Prowling lions
Making sky burials
Amongst art.
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The Larkspur Horne 
Reblogged this on Smile Circulation and commented:
Lovely!
Thank you! 🙂
This was amazing 🙂
I love this! ♡