I'm a part of the black and white sea,
spend my days in mourning,
dead to my own beliefs.
The storm clouds are a warning:
no prisoners to be released.
Lightning strikes the land like
a band of thieves.
I'm not sad, that's boring.
When my maker cuts the purse strings,
I'll dream in color, not fall peacefully
into grayscale sleep.
Cover Art: Hilda Fletcher Magnificent Mourning, 1913


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