too young to know
that the reservoir was
filling up
before realizing we were
starting to drown
oblivious to the fact
that red means stop
red of blood
red traffic light
red scream of an
insect's wings
we drew the blood
we blew the light
we ate the
body
between the wings
dreaming among the roses
involuntary doses
of rapture
in azure
until we all left town
(Children's dances by Hans Thoma)
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