All posts filed under: Strange Writing

Queen of Cups

Sea salt in her hair A breeze on her lips Her hands clasp a cup From which only she can drink Her throne a thousand pebbles Smoothed by sands of time Her crown woven by grasses From dunes rising tall behind The sky a cloudless blue Sunshine warms her face The sound of lapping waves Holds her in an embrace Eyes closed, head back Floating in an abyss In her mind’s eternal depths Nothing is amiss