Balloons filled with ocean water, brisk and clean they were formally known. Figured out in cleansing, those fake candle lit rooms burst into bright yellow illumination. They found the bread room, those knives sliced away at the tender edges. It possessed a slant, in which an angle could not be found in the front. It had bright red smiles on the fronts, with teeth engulfed inside the air pockets. Did they pop once or twice, did they reveal their true purpose in many spoken words. Would you ignite them, will they become your salvation in these mere changes. These stagnant mirrors reflect them, they have no indentation. Swelling up, as you hear them burst, they hissed with a wailing softly in your ear. Will you flee from imagination, will you never return to those that kept you safe.
Contributor- Chris Ballenger