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by Alexis Jan 17, 2013 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
When rain is scarce & dust crawls closer, i try to be a poet, writing aphorisms, forcing myself to sleep with images under my pillow. but words erode under the sun, beneath my heart & my hands can't hold what i don't know how to feel. alexis Copyright©alexis2013
by Robert Gardiner
Very Nice!!!
by Yatubeera Resty
You speak of nature but in two different foams.