(There is) a delicate darkness
Like lace, thick & complicated
It's roots stretch & wind deep
Like tentacles searching for life
Layered & old like age rings on an old oak
It is a voluptuous darkness within me
It is sound, rhythm, & cacophony
Paint, charcoal, & ash
Percussive combustion of fuchsia & vermilion
Splatter like wax
Breathy quivering notes
Brush a pale cloud of opalescence.
I fling my arms open
Throwing raspy low vibrations
That languidly smear smiles on a sanguin(ary) red earth.