A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth Brush I (The Silent Sound of the World Turning) You brush my cheek with the side of your hand And there is an ocean of diamonds spinning in your watery eyes -I am Bereft of speech Overflowing with choice -And A word- Logos, ethos, pathos infinitumContinue reading “Weird Dreams 25 “The Silent Sound of the World Turning””
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