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Wrinkle, of a rainscape

Wrinkle, of a rainscape this day, composed of time, and cloudfall. Poet-cadencing we write, to kill the sting and taste the hiss.. of spring

Ghost prints

​Mindful, of this wordpath that secretly... reflects my soul. Sentience. Awareness. ...Lead my footsteps, in the snow

Synchrony.

Synchrony. Two frequencies... confide. Mercy, in the madness within the heat... of night

Wild, against the words

Poet's voice, will always find her whispering… to wants, untold. Heartbeat pulsing, wild, against the words his gentle... steals her soul

Muse

Hiss of snowflake, March of embers... idly penetrating skin. Dance the storm, to bare the muse... within.

Fragile themes

Poets, speak to things of core... and substance Handprints. Snowflakes. Souls. At ease, with rare and fragile themes inward... of the poem

Arsonist

Charcoal verse, unstructured ash a penciled word... to hiss, of branch. Pure, as a fever's kiss poet... arsonist

Echoed, in the arch.

Water-chimes... and solitude the peal of letters, breaking echoed, in the arch. To still... a poet's heart

Carry on

Wordpath, phrased by whisper to disappear.. within her calm. Just hush, as time continues the world... will carry on

Word... and wing

To find that plane, that match... of echo ...continuity. She thrives, by word... and wing persistence, and a dream

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