My book of poems
My book
of poems
sleeping
in the
meekness
of the pond…
the child’s
eye
knows
nothing of refraction
aphorisms
scar the
skin
of water,
the fragile
trace
of truth
a foggy
journal
sealed with
lead…
days of
waiting
waiting for
dreams…
the smoke
of failure
and the
abandonment
of petals,
all
forgiven
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