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First I fell
as deaf and tender
into the mirror’s face
into the glass of night
and drenched in wine spilled from the poet’s spell;
then I slept
though cold and bitter
beneath the pulse of stars
beneath the bidden heart
and sealed by tears of light the poet wept;
soon I’ll wake
if blind and naked
upon the dreaming womb
upon the palm of time
and bathed in blood from rhymes the poet spake.

Tags

red, drop, rose, poem, soul, spirit, birth, light

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