Preamble
Enjoy
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Edges Oh, Monolithos tell a lie so the truth can be seen Water feels freedoms past Air breathes passion out, then draws it back in Earth in solitude spins on its edges I am a man who stumbles along the edge of a threshold in haste The women I have known. I wander through the forest writing poems for you, leaving my scent behind Stories of hurt, some of longing eyes of ice and rain, lips gathered in a bouquet of passion sun on soft skin and stone My memory is the privacy of our intimate moments The wind in the trees seeks the hidden bits of love around the edges, what is found is what I have always known The truth can be seen— I loved you all. SLRCawaja Sept 2025
Till next week.