The desert spills into my palm,
sensual lines crafted in the womb
etched in perfection, it shimmers
as the dust sashays and whirls
to reveal the face of God.
Created from the rib of man,
all dust returns to dust
but the face of the chalice
remains a mystery,
like the belly dancer falling
into herself.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow. This is a journey not seen by me when picking this pic, but I really did wrap myself around it. Great work. Good Luck

