diumenge, 24 de gener de 2016

THE VOICE



THE VOICE

Fractured poet
at the bottom of the sixth verse,
in the core of a tear
that throng and hold
cradled between the eyelid
and a fleeting wink,
the resigned gesture
awaited desire
to get me on track
the heart,
and it is playing the swing
hesitation
the voice that I confused
why it  entertained me
the voice between mosses
no longer harbors,
the voice of folly,
as  unheeded
the traces of my feet
cold velvet ...



-© Carmina Ral 2016
 

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