icehouse December 18, 2013 The Ice Cutters,1911,Natalia Goncharovadial me up darling warm mewith stories spoken red hot in your mother tongueevery word a pearl a flight path strung out and held over flickers of desirei close my eyes slowly melting sinkinginto your words i let go then glide© 2013-Rene Share Get link Facebook Twitter Pinterest Email Other Apps Labels magpietales Poem poetry Share Get link Facebook Twitter Pinterest Email Other Apps Comments LoxlyDecember 18, 2013 at 10:59 PMAtive, visual. Delightful.ReplyDeleteRepliesReplyHelenDecember 19, 2013 at 11:22 AMHappy Holidays, Rene!!ReplyDeleteRepliesReply21 WitsDecember 19, 2013 at 11:51 AMOh yes, I am gliding through the joy too! Nice poem!ReplyDeleteRepliesReplyIrish GumboDecember 22, 2013 at 7:55 PMYes, that. I wish I had written it, damn you. Don't stop writing stuff like this one.ReplyDeleteRepliesReplyIndigo RothDecember 23, 2013 at 8:07 AMDamn, this is sexy. Nicely done Rene. HAPPY CHRISTMAS! Indigo xReplyDeleteRepliesReplyAdd commentLoad more... Post a Comment Please drop a penny in a poet's hat :
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Ative, visual. Delightful.
ReplyDeleteHappy Holidays, Rene!!
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I am gliding through the joy too! Nice poem!
ReplyDeleteYes, that. I wish I had written it, damn you. Don't stop writing stuff like this one.
ReplyDeleteDamn, this is sexy. Nicely done Rene. HAPPY CHRISTMAS! Indigo x
ReplyDelete