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2230

/ Nicole Lopez

Poetry — 1 min reading time

No. 1


a draft of wind that touched the sea
upon a starless night
it was but red, imagined bliss
exposed beneath the clouds

it curled and crawled —slid up my feet
at last our sweet reunion.
Alas the news have missed our steps,
we sway against communion.

a venom taste, enchanted scent
Dear Space, condense our doubts
if truth the remedy —our sins, goodbye
I dwell —restored at last

pressed against a tungsten light,
the silhouette of sanity.
the only memory that remains:
dancing — in the ocean.

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