deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ink into the Sand
Paint chips in glints
Vibrancy of hue
Mystifies
The memory of air -
Once there
Always
There
Like the blood of a poet
In stains
Of
Atmosphere – Where
The hand
That
Moved – Remains
Pen
In
Hand
A phantasm
Casting ink
Into
Time’s
Sand.
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