she cuts a swathe
through inky blackness,
swaddling all that she sees
with her miasma of
counterfeit translucence;
declining to the hunter's prose
of fingertips circling,
and some Neil Young
climbing high…
|
she cuts a swathe through inky blackness, with her miasma of counterfeit translucence;
declining to the hunter's prose of fingertips circling, and some Neil Young climbing high…
Author notes35 words including title A contest entry
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
1 - 18 of 18
|
|
|
Our sites: Stories, Critical Poetry, Old Poetry, Quotes, Philosophy, Journals, Role-playing. © Social Design Poem History:
| |