By an axis of curvature
My ‘Dream’ rolls,
Twisting and turning
The imagery, real
In perennial blink
Very often
Absence in me, makes
My pillow moist;
Soaking teary warmth
In convivial drip
Those rare off burn
Consume my strength,
Guiding forlorn
My echoing grief;
In silent body tavern
No comments:
Post a Comment