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by David Maurice

I sometimes think about the times
That I thought were not just mine
I drag hair through comb
fine-toothed cravings,

And if I knew that you would care
(I devil up a shoulder bare)
And could this reach your mountain air

I'd leave to you the top,
stop and blink an avalanche down
into the valleys,
winding places laced chimeric
faced between the lash strokes
of tonnes of ice,
tonnes poured between
the lashes



Author's Note: words don't work don't need don't want don't do don't give don't love don't wither

Posted on 12/29/2012
Copyright © 2021 David Maurice

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/09/13 at 10:55 PM

"stop and blink an avalanche down into the valleys," - what a fantastic concept. Loved the flow to this, the most interesting rhyme scheme. "faced between the lash strokes of tonnes of ice," - the hard and the softest of softs - what a visual!

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