Burying an Albino |
by abbya |
She was singing a song to arrest hurricanes, earthquakes. She was dreaming prophesies to cease green graves Wastelands, rubbles of our glorious tomorrow. Then graciously she passed on without ceremony. Glad volunteers came to bury her, without flowers. They buried her straight upside down, nude never to return. The elderly lady is sleepless remembering her weird colours. |