A slip of the pen
and the next thing you know there’s a visible rise
in Fahrenheit;
they despise us for our tongue,
gold illustrated rage that alludes inequality
and now the moon roseate observes my intentions;
there is no turning back.



Photo credits: Unsplash

Linda is our hostess tonight! She wishes us to Cry
Havoc and let “slip” the Dogs of War. Come join us πŸ’

A Skylover Wordlist: Fahrenheit, golden, illustrated 🌹

Posted for Quadrille #105 @ dVerse Poets Pub