Waking Heart's Veins
backside, front slide
whatever celtic profile
drips into the moon's pool
shawls twirl of mirrors unbidden
phrases and alphabets of waters wander
collapsing around the waist of marbles unturned
shelter me with a thousand
embraces from the moon's blankets
the wind torments me with granite whistles
when mother dusk wails for morsels of biblical mercy
this decadent night crawls with exiled breaths. i breathe.
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2010
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