Diorama
The tadpoles
in your aquarium
Dream violet
waters, trampolines,
And
swan-necked dolls-
As a symbol
of grace.
Beyond the
dioptres
Holy dust
covers the crumped leather of shoes.
Paths kiss
each other then never lavish again.
I sleep in
your top dresser drawer
Protected
against misshapen umbrae.
The wind
puffs up blundering feathers.
Nobody hears
you telling yourself:
Ancestors
cloy our faults with genes.
Vyara Kozareva
Vyara Kozareva lives in Bulgaria. Her work
has appeared in Adelaide Literary Magazine.
Tags:
Poetry
we need more poetry that has poetry as its language and not just the form. this poem meets that requirement and I am impressed and grateful.
ReplyDeleteA cordial thank you!
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