from my forthcoming "Cream of wordflakes"


sepia

frozen we are,
within the nebula of
spoiled immaculacy –
pastiche for the unconventional
winter of our words ,
snowing themselves like
strained flour –
cherry trees jewelry hiding
the dreams of clay
and the broken legs of time.

don't be afraid of my roots –
they're only meant to rummage
your tender grounds of sorrow
in search for living waters.

neither am I asking for your white
nor for your black –
but for that precise shade of grey
in which my name could turn rainbow
for you...





Poetry by Lilly Negoi
Read 437 times
Written on 2012-12-14 at 20:33

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countryfog
The last stanza is stunning, a poem all by itself.
2012-12-15