deepundergroundpoetry.com
scales
slip as a ship down the channel
a breeze sings the song of the tide
a delicate grip on the handle
a blade like a thief in the night
sharpen my wits; lift the anvil
a breach in the capture of light
lunar shards dance upon the wet floor
sirens echo their sweet lullabies
a breeze sings the song of the tide
a delicate grip on the handle
a blade like a thief in the night
sharpen my wits; lift the anvil
a breach in the capture of light
lunar shards dance upon the wet floor
sirens echo their sweet lullabies
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