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etched under my skin
flame roses blister

scars on the palms
of my hands bleed
stigmata thorns

my eyes freeze to crystal
the tears around my neck are
fashioned in lace black obsidian

my lips - the color of amber
and fire - are vows
never broken

my moons are scarlet
my stars are cold
my sun is silver
and beaten GOLD


soulsurvivor
9/16/2014

~~~
why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds
For my friends here and around the world on World Poetry Day.

— The End —