aconitum napellus

deep-blue
necromancer
tucked along the crease between worlds
pastures
plains
and sunrise sofa cushions
whatever 
discarded in feather canyons & forgiveness
winds still as morning turns pink-gray
paused here on the cusp of snow
emptiness feels tight--boa constrictor tight
sorrow purple rolling up the tendrils & traces of time
tick--tock
tuberous nevermore to ponder the space between leaves & leaving
white-blue this day
this whatever 
my body ceramic-electric
still
stone

surrender