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Portents, veiled.
bohemian

I have a vision:
 1
 
 
“One day, we will watch
 2
the water burn our skin
 3
and shy fingers hold
 4
hands feeling the
 5
current beneath our
 6
sandy feet.
 7
 
 
We will float
 8
like the swans
 9
in their ritual dance
 10
on an strange sunset.
 11
 
 
Our eyes will
 12
become anemones
 13
wallowing to a thousand
 14
colors that any poet
 15
could not write
 16
nor any painter could paint.
 17
 
 
We will fly away
 18
to a cloud where
 19
no lovers have sailed.”
 20
 
 
But this is where I stop:
 21
when two vowels
 22
could pull you
 23
to the ground.
 24

1 Sep 16


(define the words in this poem)
(29 more poems by this author)



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