Before the teal,
Of heavy rain,
A song did ring unclear.

But split and spatter,
In cracks and mounds,
Frayed the linen thin.

Struck against the bed at night,
A handgun held in envy,
Shatttered glass besides a mirror.

Just among the very leaves,
Tepid in a sunset morning,
The water seams the very dress.

Mouth did heal among the waves,
Strongest in real worry,
Greatest in raw fury.

Connected at last.

◄ Perfection

Bedridden ►


Alita Moore

Mon 19th Apr 2021 07:26

I love that. Thank you!

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Ghazala lari

Sat 17th Apr 2021 14:15

Speak to me
For words are important to hear
Unsaid stories aren't moving easily
Creates ambiguity and confusions
Connections getting weak
Speak, speak, speak.

Just added a few lines, inspired reading your work. Good one.

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