Seed Clouds

A cloud passes over their faces.

An all-consuming cloud of confusion.

Then the rain starts; it races,

red rivulets like liquid rubies, down their faces.

The cloud is filling all of their empty spaces

with its fell brood.

Only the word fell can describe the feeling

of something beyond comprehension stealing

your mind, and then your body.

You say you’re still you, but I say: “Hardly.”


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