this was her house

delicately interwoven lightplay topsy vermosa on the oily orange peel and concrete finger sandwhiches.
it was quite a treat!
all about her she lay, the silence screaming to the point of breaking.
a language she could understand.
hey , it's alright now, paragon.
feel it mostly outloud inside insight right on only in into you and out again...
<deep sigh>
wishful.
languid.
humid.
a patchwork of braincells.
it was the most.
it was alright baby honeysuckle.
the cardboard boxes turned on their noses and iron laden butterfly
cliches snapped their wings in a clamourous cacophony. tastes good.
the tang of metal copper coily rage and telephones beeping and buzzing
like friendly insects in the grasslands of a messy room.
frosted giraffe glasses and tell me hearts.
the smell of latex and wooden doves.
a melty lucky flame.
a pink frog with no eyes.
pills for headaches.
this was her house.
her tiny sanctuary made huge and wondrous.
the playground for dust and fragile eggs.
eggs with hearts of gold and brains of fire.
she protects them with her life.
unfurling like a medusa at the smallest intrusion.
and then the angels have to calm her down.
hush
hush
they say
we are here with out fiery swords.
we are here with a fabric of softness.
go to sleep now
go to sleep.

all writings are © ana voog.
all rights reserved.
use in whole or in part is expressly forbidden without
the prior, written consent of ana voog.