The Splinters
Splinters me into many tiny unspoken words
I hear the mating songs
Through light years of waiting
And see how leaves turn to bile
I know of secret places
Regurgitating memories
And touch men
Who turn to moss at the water’s edge
I comb stories in the sand
Tragic ballads to keep me occupied
Another day without a sky
Splinters me into many tiny unspoken words
Labels: poetry
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