deepundergroundpoetry.com
Accordion Respiration
Mists upon
my
face, a place
of mis
placed packages
in a
splash,
into a gulf of trash,
meeting
explorer’s feet,
opening into a secret
path,
where secrets meet: Hidden away, like the sight of a night inside
of
a
day.
my
face, a place
of mis
placed packages
in a
splash,
into a gulf of trash,
meeting
explorer’s feet,
opening into a secret
path,
where secrets meet: Hidden away, like the sight of a night inside
of
a
day.
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