love poems (Remove filter)
Preen
The room brimmed
with her pale heat
lapping through my winter.
Dare I touch this dance
and stuff my pockets full of hope?
Parcel my fears
in wax paper and twine
and wait for them to unravel.
Pic - Cormorant Drying Wings. by Geoffrey Bickley. Sculpture: wood
Friday 17th January 2014 1:41 am
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