Published: 04 Mar 2019 › Updated: 04 Mar 2019
Night
Gurgling echoes
I don't know ...?
Too many scratches
Breezy carrying dust,
maybe preach miss
Or...?
Top of the branch
Pulverized in milling time
As I folded hope
I save, between tones
Not the poem that made me
crazy word
The smile did not fade in the hand
time
Miss poems
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