New sunday.


illusions cast
hazy lavender shadows
on a layer of heavy fog

the honeyed words
turn to cool mist
that hangs like a picture on display
only to dissipate instantly in the sweet air.

people whisper in monotones
refusing to realize the sensuality
that daily presents itself to them in life
only showing a pleasant facade to the entire world
concealing true feelings, afraid of how others would react to their
vulnerability.

so they resort to casting illusions
that produce hazy lavender shadows
revealed on a heavy layer
of a foggy uncertain dream termed
life.



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