Open Poetry #42 |
necks rise |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Her neck so skinny, As if my hand could rotate its shape And make it fold in my pocket Without her long eyelashes Ever noticing, With a warmth that blinds The blandest ice, The warmth alive her Pink, lunch fingers That sly around My quiet stomach. With her, like sleep, Like autumn in June’s castle, Keeping her awake, Behind the ruins Of her cosmic clothes, The lakes top Glazing over her skin. |
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© Copyright 2008 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Robert E. Jordan Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-25
Posts 8541Philadelphia, Pennsylvania |
Tomer, Strive for simplicity. Simplicity works. Bobby |
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