QED

poesy

Her words like parched earth

At a junction, near spilt glass and violet motives

my eyes burn

forced to see the limits of her desires.

I let go of all the dust which gathers

onto the porch of my mind.

She begins, at a distance,

unraveling  ink blotted material

containing indecipherable banter.

I cut the messages back to the source

of pure emotions…free from the unreal.

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