solemnity
solemnity rising into the comingof more burning by the hour
rolls like soft glass and wet sand
in honor of the day ending
there are more than one
to each slot on the Ouija board
tilting with secrets and silence
but the dead will not speak
Poetry by Bob
Read 619 times
Written on 2015-11-22 at 18:50
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Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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