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Vermilion poppies lilt,
nebular bruises mar the dusk,
zephyrs drink their glow.

Opal tendrils writhe,
sylphic breaths gild ebon tides,
vellichor unspools.

Chrysalides burst,
obsidian pinions wilt,
twilight drowns in dusk.

 Feb 22 David Cunha
Liana
I may not believe in a god(s)
But that does not mean that I do not have a religion

I believe in poetry
Not everyone has a god, but everyone has a religion. For some it's art, animals, money, or music. For me, it is words, or poetry. At night I do not pray to God, I write poetry. I do not ask God for answers, I write to figure them out myself. Poetry is my religion.
bright shining sun beams
reflected upon the lake
in glinting ripples
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