the stars have not burnt my skin (poemoff 2)
whisper her your soul
in the soft wind of snowflakes
catching in eyelashes
i do not know your
memories of chest compressed
by days that are too long
and nights unremembered
the moon is dark
and yet i see
when i pull back my shade
the glistening white of
diamonds in the dust
The title of this poem comes from "YOU ARE A WARMRED SACK" by Zack.
1 comment:
There is a nice smoothness to this poem.
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