~a confluence of tributaries

 

 

dense as stone

            -your absence inside me 

there’s no escape

the gravity of death

its purloined air

where herbs burn

oils and absinthe

coagulate

a myriad sway of graveyard flowers

            this delirious dance with

            visitors to my veins

voices prepare

            poetry’s bitter salvation

            a river’s proverbs

            the moth-man’s prophecy

©  lori hamilton

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