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Tamar

Tamar

There are stories bound to your bloodstream, they warble riches across your timeline, bare vividness most naked in the mind. These are shared, not in their wholeness but as pebbles, never able to depict them in enthralling sobriety.
  
These tales slip by as fables, submerged in the valleys of myth ageing in tombs so holy, savoured by pilgrims moulding idols from old.  
  
My words are born salted, linger in my mouth with the gravity of a landed boat, sail idly as a swan in sunshine before escaping. They stroke their gentle lullabies across long slumbering spirits - ready for rebirth, adventures a-new upon waking.
  
My words are whispered into hollow shells, echo under the arches of viaducts,
embed themselves as ticks post river restore.
  
My words are bright as moss on rock, fast flowing through a chasm, stolen from my tongue as froth within a storm.
  
Naiad- She shall not be contained by time, she who is free in her living
is close to a Goddess on Earth.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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