I managed to lose him in the purple fog
Against a dull gray view
He’d been sullen all day long
And suddenly withdrew
Without a single cognitive word
His mind trailed away from me
And there he still sits catatonic and drooling
In front of his most cherished plasma sea
© 2018 Michelle Cook
For a month of writing prompts, click here; Purple plasma
Her Writing Haven 
An interesting and intriguing poem with different possible meanings. ☺❤
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See now… you get it. 😉
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☺
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Through him a rope! Yay for day 2 and purple! ❤️
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Thank you… I haven’t started day 3 yet. It’s gonna have to wait until the morning. Hopefully I get a surge of inspiration, but I’m not really a morning person. Lol. 😉
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There’s a morning? 😳 who knew?!
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Lol… yes, it’s somewhere out there! I’m dreading the thought of it. Night…😴❤️
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Happily I opened my eyes this morning, Thank you, God, but I’m not not a morning person!! Hope you slept well 🙂
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That’s good… I felt like I’d just closed my eyes when the alarm went off at 6. Been dragging all day long, and my brain has no idea was to do with Brimstone Brew. Lol
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Try drinking some….worked for Esmeralda 😉
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Lol… Fire whiskey does the job. 😉
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Perfect poem.
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Thank you 🙂
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