We buzz about in word and phrase
and taste our pain with inky sting.
We hold regret in hoarded haze
where secrets linger, hard-fought things.
Bring quill, for we will etch a song
(a siren warning to the sun)
from sacred wisdom all night long,
negotiations just begun.
Behold, our wings are portraits in
the kindred colors of the breeze.
We’re braced, en-cased in salt’s sweet spin,
that won’t stop life’s parentheses.
We poets, poised with crackled fire
pen worlds to life from sheer desire.
Poetic Asides April PAD Challenge, day 13. This is the one with all the prompts.