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My aching flesh
Handprints on me are reddish
Your blanket of fire
Cold silk expose desire
Pressed against you to learn
How slow and heavy we burn
Shared on Hello Poetry on January 27, 2016.
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All Rights Reserved
Blah blah blah
Enjoy!
 Jan 2016 B Wasserman
Reece
It's in the way the mountain breathes
or how the wind shakes the leaves from the trees
It's how the mirror reflects your truth
or how the existence of proof could fall from the roof
Don't listen to the radio antics
or the romantic notion of semantics
Instead please, you could play in the leaves
splay through the breeze or lay with trees
who shake their leaves
as the mountain breathes
and the war ends, or the world pretends as much

— The End —