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We forget her scar -let dress is just for early risin’, surprisin’ us with all its crimson silk applause. Pause, take a second ………..look , and book a table for two near the horizon. .. Prompted by Poetic Asides. … Continue reading
(an ovillejo aubade) .. She borrowed light of moon …………too soon to hold the stars above …………with love. And by the break of dawn, …………she’s gone. But in her parting song, you’ll find a hidden line that holds you just … Continue reading
She’s doing some aching again, greeting the day with open hands and a moaning heart, starting a song on this sky piano with knuckles lost to greater fights. She’s right at the center of that rising sun, mourning loss … Continue reading
.. before the sun stretches hot and bold, we hold one last gaze at the nothingness of fickle fallen stars. .. twiglet #64.
.. You say to talk about her in a new way and I must tell you I am exhausted. She exhausts me. My nouns. My verbs. My inky veins. I have quilled her a thou -sand poems in paper sky, … Continue reading