Miss Reading

She drew the world at fingertip
With a silken liquid grace
Drawing her web across the lip
That I struggled to deface

In time all clocks forget to chime
Turned pages turn to only dust
Like ghosts in flocks of pantomime
Like broken locks or abused trust

She will wait for you in an eerie freeze
In a prison of quotation like promise said
Writing poems, bars cages soliloquies
Repeating backward lines of all that you misread.

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-03-28 at 15:59

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by Chaucer Whethers