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Constellation

Posted by A Gathering Of The Tribes in Features | Poetry

universe
look there
brightness stunned
ice blind
awake endlessly
bright burning
oscillation
whirl’d
unto me
whirling
unto itself
green infinitely
implacably lemon
adored
sipped gulped
gurgled
least
little
wick ‘d
light
i sleep knowing
you don’t
and i will
wake onto you
here scale or there climb
slashing clomping
morsels of
being
loved
blind.

by Poonam Srivastava

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