| Escape Consecrate me release me from this sepulchre of feculent words and soiled intentions. I fear this world has tarnished me. Am I blight? cold and destitute, the bleak child of winter azure-lipped and frozen; ebony eyes searching for life in the abandoned lands of her mother. Longing for warmth an escape from this prison of ice. I fear not my own cool touch smothering his flames, but of his heat- clever, cleansing sun- erasing all that I am. Shall I be doomed to run like water? ~Vicki Somers 2 January 2003 |
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