Just a little 'rain of death
to dissolve in your delicate patches of white flight
the blackboard of your black heart. The selvage
passing would leave a hole in a halo of light from outside
but chasms within
unknown where the eyes and minds they will never arrive.
Arrancar off a heavy
rid of what you think
ballast takes the form of a chameleon
of beautiful changing colors depending on the
role to take on ....
.... but your wings are white.
Blank and heavy
while flights between
carnivorous plants and flowers with the pollen of curare.
