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Click hereDesert's heat whispers smoothly
over the partition of night/day
until it is only wax paper.
We can see through it.
Breathing around its lid, hope
opens us, roughening what sand
has worn smooth, lifting lungs against
their cages. Veiled shimmer seeps,
lavishes delicious dangers over skin,
finds purchase in pores
until light feeds night blooms
through the neck's thick dropper
and we wash
and we wash
over tipped sky's ship
embracing in our sleep
the endless shore.
More shameless begging from the Bluebell camp for further poems from Dora. You have a gift. It's undeniable, really. Your poems fit like crisp clothing. Perfectly tailored, with small flourishes that seem more delicate than they are. Because the truth is that even when your words speak in fragility, there is strength inside of them. Thank you for sharing.
i love the phrasing of this poem. it sets a mood. the words wash over you and give you a feeling of complete calm. there's such an ethereal feel to the lines. beautiful.
Your poem is mentioned in the new poems review thread on literotica's poetry forum.