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Aug 2011
I know of something acquainted
with the nearest shadows
seeking to stand in my Eden.
Seen as flames
my footsteps have gone from this world
I no longer taste their freedom.

The cold hard ground checks my validation,
keeps me here every day.
Beautiful places like that of my Eden
make passion felt even more,
losing the mask of my face,
slip sliding away.

All the beautiful seals are removed from my bells.
However, I still hear them ring.
My feet once danced as unbound flames
in my lovely Eden.
Until shadows sprang from pages
and began to sing.

Moments are erased revealing thoughts,
opening the heart
when the earth hangs on a day’s silence.
Questions rise then crumble
into the nearest shadow’s hands that fight
my splendid Eden’s wildness.
Neva Flores Varga Smith
Written by
Neva Flores Varga Smith  53/F/Rochester NY
(53/F/Rochester NY)   
633
   Raj Arumugam and P E Kaplan
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