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Jul 2019
If the sun was dipped in ice for a moment,
It would not burn, but sing of the difference of self,
The disparate extreme, the broken yelp of a solar flare,
Muted by the soothing sojourn of iced light in layers.

Cover love in ice and it burns,
Voluptuous in its piercings,
In shocking bloom through the universe.
Chris Saitta
Written by
Chris Saitta  52/M/Virginia
(52/M/Virginia)   
  655
         Molly, Amanda Sheehan, Indiana, Eryck, --- and 9 others
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