Sand Box
Sahara north african voice hit th' desert
whimpering a cry a muffler left goodbye
to where sand storms swallow an hurt
th' scent of a women to dare to try
th' garment's thou used to wear
e're live in a sand box untouch'd spill
still looking for e're soft hands pare
walk'd th' flaming sand up a hill
longing to touch again e're skin
search'd for days near tho far away
having illusional visions of e're spin
opened th' box to win a day
an all e're clothes coverd' th' desert hence
with winds up shifting e're scarves fence
10/13/2016
Copyright © Talin Kalishian | Year Posted 2016
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