Sixty five tales of cotton
of color green for tall
were dripping all over the breeze.
The blue cotton had an umbrella though
and the reflections or tiles
were not so magical anymore;
just like the crows flying in the air.
But some art about humans flying
was paid in billions.
The beads enweaved to hold a glass wall;
had also gathered the dust along
and the fastest running animal
was compared to a unit
humans could only invent.
Grandmother's touch was sold
with the sanitizer
some uncapturable reflection of ultramarine blue
drugged the eyes.
A white ball could fly on its own
in the transparent breeze
and the patio could just vibrate.
The puddle held the tears
bubbles lived for merely couple seconds
and new ones formed nearby
or did the same bubbles travelled
secretly through a tunnel
below the noise of circular shooting drops
from the sky?