Time for a riddle Time is a rodent Ardent arrows Are curses Are they curses Are they cured Are they convergent I am born a burned sun I am born a blistering bone There is a shift of shafts There is prison of prisms An iron iris irradient An ark of arrows Awaiting our augur […]
Tag: Skin
Poem : Skins of My Earth
It was her skin in the ground It was her skin with blood beneath It was her skin with heat and humid It was her skin in countless shades of grey It was her skin in columnar colors of brown It was her skin in bruised blisters of black It was her still life, silent […]
