Weaving you in like cat's cradle.
The whimsical motion of her wrists catching wishes from floating seeds in June.
Running fingertips along the edge of your holographic glass.
Ringing clear. Tongue swollen.
No word on this sleepy afternoon.
Walking down overgrown paths,
drunk on pollen and rays of sun shining through.
Want to run away with love engulfed pupils.
Pearls wrapped in golden webs.
Are we in over our heads?

Saree Nyxi
May 2017