By: High Art
Blue and white gives way to pink to gold to orange to black.
The air turns crisp.
An opaque puff shifts its hips as it reaches for the clouds.
Your arm shifts, so slow as to be imperceptible.
Your hand, its own universe, awaits with baited breath for me to appreciate its movement.
Is your planet habitable?
Your eyes shift, so slow as to be imperceptible, like the growth of a seedling from day to day until one day it becomes whole.
Rooted. Planted. We were, in a past life.
Now we are yesterday’s sativa roach. Abandoned. Flamed out euphoria.
