SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
SVETLANA
Green rose fire, water walking
Desire shrouding latent innocence.
Soul claws shredding thoughts before formed.
My numb fingers reach the feather.
Slim crystal notes peal my heart.
You turn to me and already I ask,
again?
To have great poets there must be great audiences too.
Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
SVETLANA | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
Do You, Too | 0 | 03/11/2009 |
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