Flight of the seagulls

Vivacity around my aura,
I am aware of your presence.
Swallow me down,
Puke me out,
Enlight the dust of destruction,
And burn it with your sunflower warmth.

Untill there’s only a vivic sunshine left for us to breathe.

We are victorious.
I am no longer caged inside the mirrored box of desolation.
The seagulls have shit their shit
On the fresh december grass
And took their feathers with them
Alongside the trash they carry away
Into oblivion.

I live.
I breathe.
I grief.
I smile.


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