My garnet tinted Thursday
temptingly it ignites into bright red, dose of melting cherries through the cracks
of a wheedling workday
amongst its non existent contours akin a field flat and fallow
waiting to get lit before it can become fertile
an inert glinting scarlet, dosed with spots of blackening hopes
doused ember with inert desires
crushed earths of yearly wisdoms caked in slimy carmine
amidst an annual chronology of listed happiness little egrets of time flown by
just before the weekend a momentary lapse in judgement
to begin quantifying
a day before weekly jubilation a blooming notion in a little bubble
that hovers above my head holding me accountable
for all that couldn't be, the dancing flames of bejeweled promises
turning to stone in daily corners
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