Beatrice Feng πŸ”ˆ

Chemical Opera

Pink dripped into the fingernail and hung there β€” a flower on a tree hangs in the air β€”
Space between the tree and the earth was created β€” red leaves are painted.
Blood, in, fingernail. Red leaves, red veins, drip them in a desert

And a tree shall grow. Neither in the sands nor in the air but hangs between them
A horizontal growth as wind bells yodeling weeps of air and ballets of sands, floating like
Wreathes crystallised into a maze whose walls of snowflakes every breath travels through.

The frosted wind bells lip the tears of snowflakes (the maze dissolves) to construct
Liquid roses, drip them in the myriad engravings on the skin and a blindfish shall grow.

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About the Author

Beatrice Feng studies at Lancaster University. They are an aspiring writer.