the fragrance of a thousand years
the sound of silent flying souls
my heart pressed hard against the edge
the thick and soft edge breathing hard
while loves sings always like the wren
and stars sing always overhead
I have places that I live
other places that I dwell
and silence rings in golden throng
words idle cannot do their wrong
and I take up your judgment eyes
and try to ride the dashing waves
until I fly, leave earth and try
to nestle soft and comforted
between wings of the butterfly
pearls beautiful drop from my heart
delicate, riding, perfumed red
or is it white, or golden black
and glowing lustre carmel clean?
but you…still…
heavy with your ego looks
and thick with all your privilege books
and me? Just ghosting in your world
a banner on the wind unfurled
my body pressed hard on the edge
Daily Archives: April 6, 2016
The Sighing Wind
it was in the fog
that the pink came out…and left
on the sighing wind
Stuck In The Middle
surrounding darkness
glowing reflected image
always gone…and here
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