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Literature Text
I am unfenced,
Loosing self
Like a white, dispersing cloud
Slipping by in the realm
Of mirrors –
I am ready
For the wordless(ness);
Riding always in the
Dulcet subterfuge
Of our own
Weaving
Illusions.
Loosing self
Like a white, dispersing cloud
Slipping by in the realm
Of mirrors –
I am ready
For the wordless(ness);
Riding always in the
Dulcet subterfuge
Of our own
Weaving
Illusions.
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Autumn awaits.
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Comments25
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I do enjoy the wordplay