Wednesday, 2 August 2017


THE MOON

Her waters run deep...

As I stare at her
Silver complexion
She grabs me by the hair.

Sometimes her waves
Are confusing.

Sometimes she plays
With her muddy waters.

Sometimes monsters arise.

Sometimes I just cave in
And crush like a porcelain doll
Into numerous pieces
Into dust. 

Until... I emerge... again...
Who's to say what's coming?
at

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