Mental Masturbation

The wind blew her northward.
Desert dry and frigidly barren.
Her mind, not her body.
Spent, but ready to burst again.
Like a leaf on the breeze she fell where she landed.
Pouring paint into the world.
Cracking open others soul’s to sneak in and plant diamonds.
She came like Christmas, a beautiful pageant of lights and colour.
Soaking up the grey.
Uprooting the cemetery stones that stuck up like teeth.
She polished them like new enamel.
Dressed in the same clothes she was to be buried in, she was like you or I.
The same skeleton underneath.
Yet she was different.
Feeding the animals in her mind she roared at life, treating it like a circus.
Until she floated away again, when her work here was done.

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