Atomiser threads.

viewing the binding weed through foxes eyes 

needling points threads repairing faulty lines 

hemmed in earnest

darkness on a wet night 

terraced garden of flood lights 

hanging gardens filled with Humming birds 

pulling faces

trapped in smoked filled humidors 

preserving Cadillacs underneath

the lilac blossoms of spring 

whilst waiting for some kind of captivity 

a idea to light up my own mind 

like a pink atomiser dressed in a silk nightgown.