my mile long
fingers
grab hold of the wheel
glide
down
winding roads
stretch
across
new territories
and
touch
a part of
your world
beautiful/dangerous
~*In a world of walking english, butterflies are volcanoes*~
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2 comments:
This one's very intimate - the way everything, all the parts of the poem, touch and move on each other. It's real tactile. It's great.
everthing up here of yours seems both relatably vague and warmly personal, I'll admit I'm a fan. Please contiue the lovely work.
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