Open Poetry #41 |
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Black Lila |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Its always a different dance, A different flask that bears its name across the wooden etched skin of the bars front path. Where the air bathes in black, The alleys of shadows, Scathing each corner With the prints of Their words kneeling to The moons light, Just as I did to see her reaction. Her theater of smiles Are as sins that slay The postures of truth, Like the caveat of wool Shredded from the curtain That separates our distant thoughts. I am but a nail, That sits their with my Head sharp, but my figure As thin as the lingers That come from her vacant stare. Its my words to take, Your skin to shape, For my eyes to trust once. |
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© Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
powerful words. always good poems! have a very wonderful New year, Tomer! ![]() |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks Tom, you do the same. Tomer |
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