In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Alphabet Soup.”
Altered breathing, careful drumming,
Enthusiastic fingers on the guitar.
Hindered intentions, jealousy-
After all, she was a star.
Kindred lyrics, music nestling,
Opaque in her silly joys,
Perpetually penetrating quintessential reservoirs
Of a soulful and sorrowful turmoil of listeners.
Ushering venom from vengeful eyes-
Those wistful xenomorphs
Yonder the zenith.