Space opening a flowering void expands
The Moon like an eye of evil blinks
When nothing is, as anyone thinks
Faces closing overpowering out of hands

Pale fingers brushed by fate
Wave in underwater slow ballets
Sleep nearby rather late
Dreams, surgical instruments in trays

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 150 times
Written on 2021-11-17 at 07:03

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