Was such a liquid part of me,
A state in which
My youth then grew apart from me.
Every day another restless breath,
In which I grew
Much closer to the act of death.
So with this violet storm
Playing clock above my heart,
I memorised the code
In which my life did start.
Closing eyes of hazel shade and
Clenching molten fists of art handmade,
I touched the time with tears in my heart
And in my mind.
Violet storm her clouds then thickened,
As her laugher lines would rise,
The plot it then did thicken
As she dived into her eyes.
So with her last breath constant she
Would seek a mortal dream,
She would balance with both heart
And hand across the balance beam.
In which her metal fists would break-
Her youth again
Was born and tamed.
And there she danced once more
Between the raindrops
Of the violet storm.
By Boneata Bell