martes, 7 de octubre de 2014

Neptune

Astronomical burbble 

of salt and powder, 

blue foam 

in wobbly veins. 


Light is a perpetual voice 

echoing in that stillness. 


A cosmic swan, 

mute of such clarity,

almost like any

indecipherable creature,

have seen me.


Each sublunar step

hurts.

Each simple breathing

far away from the stars,

truly hurts.


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1 comentario:

  1. Sometimes poetry surpasses philosophy on the acquaintance of Truth. It's been one of those times as it appears.

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