Remembering the prickling
On my skin
A shallow cut,
Just deep enough
To produce such lustrous
Crimson beads,
Reminding me
That some part still lives -
Though I feel restless
As a starving ghost.
Des phantomes en ultraviolet.
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Author:
SerenWise (
Offline) - Published: December 19th, 2019 20:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 56
- Users favorite of this poem: kevin browne
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Comments1
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