The old appreciate
Passionate tears of loss
As if the stars could speak
Would they tell me of my light?
(How do) I absorb the sunlit
Self, bound to the words like
A semantic satiation
A ground sel of exile
Merged in paralysis
Of boreal origin I am
Eulogy of ontology
Self sylphic surrealist
In a vortex of curation
Healing my heart to love
Once again.
© K. James Ribble
self bound to the words…i like that line – self-imposed limits are sobering – interesting words and thoughts here.
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