literature

Sunburn

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Aravelle's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

You are my girdle of thorns;
every move I make
leaves me bleeding,
dropping pieces of my singed spirit
anywhere I run.

You are the coals beneath my feet
I cannot escape from the burn of you,
my sun.
An old poem I dug up, from last year.

:EDIT: This was featured by :iconsongofthepoets: here: [link]
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NewsBulletin's avatar
This is lovely..i love the phrase "singed spirit"