Native Of Another World
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...bestilling as the air submerging into me
one last look as if it were of white desert gold
twirling in the dark still air the essence and smell of silk, steps ago
depart my soul neigh
till time unravels
in the dimming light...
haunted
buds of the flower perch atop steps
shadows no longer secret the maps
the pathway breathes dust of white gold from the pot of black noire
Details
- Publication Date
- Nov 5, 2011
- Language
- English
- Category
- Poetry
- Copyright
- All Rights Reserved - Standard Copyright License
- Contributors
- By (author): JOCELYN SHAW
Specifications
- Format