Come, colored canvas, here.

Come conscious decision clear,
Weaved strings of littler thoughts' flickers, bring closer thicker lines between sky and land. Sieve to tangible tones of me, hums.

I bled blue, and shades of sky,
Sapphire throne, lighter words,
Heavier gem and cerulean stone.

Come, conquering believer.

Come lucid, sacred weaver,
And your blessed threads fetch, sowing me tighter, cutting me loose. Who's younger than the flaring seed? Reaching through our grains, it's shoot, bickering limbs of gravity.

I bled red, and fertile dyes of earth,
Serpents' crimson, branching,
Stretched on bark and hanging leaves.

Brush by – choice – and hint me swift. Tilt my blush towards wavering strands.