24 September, 2016


A tongue cuts
the air as if it were
a butter knife,
stroking out the words,
leaving confusion
in its path.

An illusion spreads
a murky illumination of the
meaning of words
that tumble forth across
the frozen

Amazed by the gentle
way the words are presented,
yet confused
by the bitter taste that
is left on the

I will put them together and cry.

Copyright Denise A White

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