Saturday


harvest moon

if i am the Queen of Crows,
  surrounded by pale pink roses under 
a harvest moon,

    who was the Queen before me?
did she wear brown eyes like me?

a Queen before me,
her intelligence
grew in gardens,
no man had to upkeep

she sucked elegant wisdom
from the velvet purple 
Dahlia 
   while midget bees
served her Lemon Tea

a Queen before me-
  she too must have a knife
to her side brain to swallow
this pain.
a blade sharp, as crystals 
  only to attest 

the King's Death. 

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