Sunday, April 25, 2021


The embroiderers of the golden tapestry

never let down their hair as rope

to take up seekers.

They enclose with estranged cloth 

that wraps us and shines

in each ray of the Sun's

allotted fire.

The cold kiss of a tear stings flushed cheeks.

Bare bone shakes when touched by their gold.

Words turn against flesh and feast.

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