SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
SVETLANA | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
Do You, Too | 0 | 03/11/2009 |
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