Ventriloquist
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With absent breath, I perch my gaze upon
The pulpy bow of lips that frame your smile ...
And tho each word they part with is a pawn,
I'm nonetheless enchanted by their guile,
While each one like an arrow, pierces, vile.
So throw my heart away without a choice ...
If you could only throw, instead ... your voice.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "Number 460 Any Form or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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