Wave IA Poem by Evelyn Trista
Washed ashore
The odor, sneaked into those fingernails The sound of kissing surface, titanium white Bubbles waking me up, the mornig of march. Mommy goes out To collect the mussels on shore* Washed ashore is a sound wave Joyful tear full of the left smell A tiny wave inside the wavelength The good one will never be good. Baby sweet falls asleep* On a surface of stopped record, White lilies will be washed ashore, A bunch of © 2018 Evelyn TristaAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorEvelyn TristaToronto, Ontario, CanadaAboutCoincidence Environment These two factors became the best part of my sorrow I remember how did my tear taste I remember how did my love heart Pure but unpure Pour the powder of stars u.. more..Writing
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