But what is eternity, if not
a whisper of frost,
landing softly
on the red lily’s lips —
the deadly flower on the other
side of the shore
spidery fangs, stretching claws
a breath away from
a beckoning memory
of our last parting
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 1:45 PM UTC
But what is eternity, if not
a whisper of frost,
landing softly
on the red lily’s lips —
the deadly flower on the other
side of the shore
spidery fangs, stretching claws
a breath away from
a beckoning memory
of our last parting
Request permission to use this poem