deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Whistlings
Against the Whistlings
of Being a Beauty
death circles the music of black wounds
Rumble vision
Savor life’s flesh drift
Oh, the bones
They hurl our mother’s body
Into our dreams
Wet and sticky
of Being a Beauty
death circles the music of black wounds
Rumble vision
Savor life’s flesh drift
Oh, the bones
They hurl our mother’s body
Into our dreams
Wet and sticky
Published 17th May 2020
Author's Note
A vision
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