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Soul Of OneShow poetry

My inner wizened crone now relaxes. Sits back, posture ever perfect, hands folded gently in lap. Grey skies are soothing and I am happy. Grateful for these words, for Coconut Cream Pie. In awe of how quickly the grass grows with such little thought. Dusty seat, no, but rusted and a bit bent out of sorts. Peeling edges folded over and preserved for the impact.

I am the flight. The avid many gaits. Sumptuous honey sweetened tea. Cognitive dream of ravaging appeal is pushing certainty through the floor. When I peered around the edge its flame went out. Ticking black. These ones took no coaxing. Daisies for no reason.

It's better here, where nothing is re-made. Giggle bumps flare high, pass my thigh, slide around my teeth. Battle for release or lost.

I relax and my time is not bleached.

  • Last seen on Dec 3 7:10 AM. Member since October 20.
  • I'm a amber angel poet for 2 comments.
  • I am a 30 year old person (Canada)
  • I have 2 comments, 8 poems

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