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by Dutch Jul 29, 2008 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
Fingertips touch woven lines And smear the charcoal tears Across rough parchment As an addition to the texture Sour is the taste on the tongue As are these woven lines They burn through skin like acid And the red joins the charcoal In its weaving dance of texture Sour taste on the tongue As the texture burns like acid.