Cold Corridor of Chine

by Colly

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You’re kind of shy.

You don’t want to hide your eyes.

But every word you say is scrutinized.

Your very essence is peeled off by revolt.

The lambent lamp of your heart bleeds hurt.

The crest of your tears crevice on rose tips.

No longer to will to open for all to abase.

The liquid that was your form gave way.

The mold that was your being eaten.

Marred by sharp stones.

2 Comments to “Cold Corridor of Chine”

  1. You and your cows! Keep them coming. Moos and words always work for me 😀

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