The soot that’s settled


Even with an aim beside
scorched in miles of words,
in silky chimes of bullets
bruised like butterflies.
Soot still settle deep
as spirits spilled on ink.
My mind is brimming
with trite signs spelling
directions to the lucid land
behind your silent hands.

Linked to Tess Kincaid’s Mag Tales and Brenda Warren’s Sunday Whirl

January 25, 2014

31 responses to “The soot that’s settled

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