SpilledA Poem by Ara Mosbyas pigment
from a bottle - as wine from
a carafe - the soul too
can spill. contents
spread like buried secrets driven out
of their boxes and in to
the unforgiving light when hidden
things are found - when
forgotten things are unearthed - my veins are
hollow shafts of feather waiting - again - to drink ink and make
unholy confessions my heart is
not ready to examine © 2016 Ara MosbyReviews
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7 Reviews Added on September 13, 2016 Last Updated on September 13, 2016 AuthorAra MosbyCAAbout“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you bl.. more..Writing
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