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Parchment Clocks

Time chimes fresh flowers Blood blossoms bloom in our brain Words reach as wooden Leaves upon pages Ink rains from our misty souls Silky sentences Slip as soft seconds Swirl inside our star sight Clocks as death's heart drum January 1st 2019

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 1/1/2019 10:04:00 PM
Chantelle, that's beautiful, deep and dark, just the way I like a poem, well done ~
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