Spring – the life of her skin

Poems
From her breasts
Scatter
Like autumn leaves.
Rain comes
Soaking their compost
Into the womb of the earth.
Spring,
In every flower
Her scent burns,
Her voice
From the beak of every bird
A wild flowing,
And the earth
Nothing but a fruit
Ripe and crimson
On the corners of her lips.

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2 thoughts on “Spring – the life of her skin

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