Her forked laughter gave no indication,
she wore no particular ermine to pledge her terrority..
Poems were broken into syllables
unsounded with scant intention,
her own vagueness was affliction itself,
near darkness her bridgehead
this equivocal shadow
a balked performance in the making.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Her forked laughter gave no indication,
she wore no particular ermine to pledge her terrority..
Poems were broken into syllables
unsounded with scant intention,
her own vagueness was affliction itself,
near darkness her bridgehead
this equivocal shadow
a balked performance in the making.
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