A cold war is brewing and unless you enjoy the taste of disdain, speak peace. 

Basking in the blooming plain of light, soldiering ant colonies travaille the arctic winter. A lush forrest lives inside and it’ll guide the chilling exploration of truth.

Buckle in it’s going to be a rough landing and the turbulence pales as the harsh solitude of the ocean is no place for failed parachutes.

We better win this invisible war on love. The war so rarely whispered.

Remember, the intolerance for the mundane maddens sly fox and, until we meet again,

Salu

 

————————

Background for my poem shapeshifter: unfortunate lived experiences of racism in society.